Life During Wartime
by Xavras
Summary: After Voldemort is defeated, the Muggle government with a relatively new Prime Minister decides to deal with the many terrorist activities from the two previous wizarding wars. They have some muggle born wizards and witches on their service. There will be no tolerance for aggressive actions on the part of witches and wizards against muggles. EWE. Ignores Cursed Child. Many OCs.
1. Chapter 1 - Life During Wartime

**AN: After Voldemort is defeated, the Muggle government with a relatively new Prime Minister (PM) (Tony Blair) decides to deal with the many terrorist activities from the two previous wizarding wars. MI-5 is brought in to deal with this — and they have some muggle born wizards and witches on their service. There will be no tolerance for aggressive actions on the part of witches and wizards against any muggles. This is a post Hogwarts story and it ignores the Epilogue and some little play with a twisted notion of Voldemort actually having had a child, despite Bellatrix not really having had time to hide away somewhere, pregnant, and pop out a baby…**

 **So, basically, the Prime Minister who actually achieved peace with the IRA will deal with the radical witches and wizards in his own way, so that the rest of the UK us protected from the horrors of the Death Eaters and their kind.**

 **This does not have a definite pairing for Harry Potter.**

 **There will be character death.**

 **There will be many OCs...**

 **It will contain violence...**

 **I do not believe that any country would react this way — it is based on a wild idea I had — how would a muggle government react to a hidden group of people who have special (magical) powers when those people have a subsection that don't care if they hurt or kill the citizens (i.e., muggles in the UK in the case of this situation). I took an idea and ran with it….**

* * *

 **Life During Wartime**

 _"This ain't no party, this ain't no disco,_

 _this ain't no fooling around_

 _No time for dancing, or lovey dovey,_

 _I ain't got time for that now"_

* * *

LDW - 1

Harry Potter woke up in his bed in the Gryffindor tower dormitory for the first time in almost a year. It was the first night in years that he slept well. Harry slowly came to consciousness and initially he was more than a little disoriented. Then the events of the past forty-eight hours came rushing back into his mind, quickly followed by his memories of the past year. He let out a long slow moan as the weightiness of everything he had actually accomplished came into realisation in his mind. He had survived, most of his friends had survived; and Voldemort, his nemesis since before he was even born, was truly defeated. This time he was gone and there was no way the nearly immortal sycophant would return. Harry slowly sat himself up and then stood up and stretched, greeting the new day and the rest of his life with a smile.

Harry turned and looked around the room, Ron was not in his usual bed, and Harry quickly assumed that he must have gone home to be with family after the loss of half of the twins, as Fred was one of his friends who had not made it through to see the victory. Harry closed his eyes and silently offered a prayer for Fred and the rest of the Weasley family, understanding their loss as he had experienced so much of his own for so long. He knew that it would not be easy for any of them, especially for George.

"Finally awake I see," commented Neville from his bed behind where Harry was standing.

Harry was startled by the voice of his friend. Harry was grateful for everything that Neville had managed to accomplish during the time that he and Hermione were on their scavenger hunt while being hunted by the snatchers all at the same time.

Harry smiled as he recalled Neville's mighty blow that severed Nagini's head from the rest of her body, and thus destroying the final horcrux which made Tom Riddle mortal once and for all. "Hey, Nev, good morning!"

"Its almost noon," replied Neville with a slight smile. "I wondered if you were ever going to wake up today."

"No rush to get anything done now, is there," stated Harry as he stretched, "the war is over, the battle is won. I can finally rest while others figure out how to put our school and our world back together."

Neville chuckled slightly at Harry's response. "You are a fool, Harry, to think anyone is ever going to let you relax. You were once known as the Boy Who Lived, now they're all trying to figure out new names for you. The Man Who Conquered. The Vanquisher of Voldemort. The Bane of He Who Must Not Be Named. Those are a few of the monikers I already heard people knocking about last night."

Harry sat back heavily onto his bed. "Why can't I just be Harry Potter, plain and simple Harry?"

Neville smiled as he shook his head. "You are definitely not plain and you're definitely not simple. You're even more of a celebrity now than you ever were before."

Harry sighed audibly, "I just want some peace and quiet, and to not have to worry about anyone trying to track me down or to worry about my friends being in danger."

"The war is over, mate," proclaimed Neville. "You'll have plenty of time to rest and enjoy this peace, I'm sure, but the ministry and the people won't let you rest."

"But what about the Death Eaters, and their families, and all of the blood supremacists who supported Voldemort? I'm sure they won't be happy with any of this," added Harry, starting to lose some of his excitement over the end of the war.

Neville frowned momentarily then smiled as he answered Harry's concerns. "They're not really a problem. Their great and powerful leader was soundly defeated, and quite publicly at that. Even when they thought He Who Must Not Be Named was possibly coming back, they mostly stayed in the background. The worst of his group died in the battle, and others were rounded up and returned to Azkaban. I heard that they will be using magical guards for the prison from now on, not dementors. The ministry is no longer under the control of the Death Eaters. Did you hear that they have appointed Shacklebolt as the interim minister? Things are going to be different, Harry. And it's all because of you!"

Harry nodded and smiled as he listened to what Neville had to say. "You've got a point, Nev," he said thoughtfully, "but I wonder, what will this peace really be like for me? After all, it's not like I've ever had a quiet year at Hogwarts, not one bloody year. So, who knows what to expect now?"

* * *

*****LDW1.1*****

* * *

 **10 Downing Street, Monday 4 May 1998**

Tony Blair sat at the table in his main conference room. His cabinet members had just arrived, and several of them clearly had looks of frustration. John Prescott arrived after conversing with another gentleman at the door to the conference chamber. He then quickly made his way to his seat at the table.

Blair looked at the grave facade on the man who sat to his right. "So, John, what seems to be the problem that has you so upset?"

"Well, we have received some important news, news about a number of unusual disappearances of many people, and then of course there was the destruction of that bridge last summer," began the First Secretary of State.

The other ministers all turned and stared at the First Secretary. The Prime Minister leaned forward slightly and indicated with a slight wave of his hand for Mister Prescott to continue.

"I have a special report brought to my attention by the head of MI5 as well as supporting documentation from MI-13," continued the secretary.

Gordon Brown, the Chancellor of the Exchequer, coughed loudly. "MI-13? There is no division known as MI-13," he protested.

Tony Blair raised an eyebrow at the interruption from the Chancellor, and then Lord Robertson, Secretary of State for Defence spoke up, "Gordon, opening your mouth and speaking nonsense when you evidently do not know what you're talking about only serves to embarrass yourself further. There _is_ an MI-13 division, and its very existence has been on a need to know basis. And usually, most of you here have not had a need to know."

"What is this MI-13?" asked the Secretary of State for Health, Mister Frank Dobson.

Prescott turned to face the Prime Minister, awaiting for permission to answer the question. The Prime Minister quietly asked Prescott if the matter was serious enough to bring up in front of the entire cabinet, and Prescott nodded as he answered that he believed it was.

The cabinet members all looked at the two men who had just exchanged quiet words, then the Prime Minister cleared his throat before he began his reply. "Now, the information you are about to hear is of quite an extraordinary degree of secrecy, particularly concerning is that most of you have never heard of MI-13."

He paused as there was some grumbling among many of the cabinet members.

"Now, I must make it clear that you must not speak of any of this outside of this room," continued Mister Blair, "not to your staff and definitely not to your families." He waited for a clear acknowledgment from all at the table that they understood the gravity of the information that they were about to hear. "MI-13 has had several roles over the past sixty odd years, but in the early 1970s it began its current responsibility of overseeing magic and those that use magic in England, Scotland, Wales and Northern Ireland."

"What, you mean magic? Magic like Harry Houdini? Why would we care about illusionists and charlatans?" asked the Secretary of State for Trade and Industry, Peter Mandelson.

"No, not like Harry Houdini, or David Copperfield," stated an exasperated First Secretary of State. "Magic, as in wizards and witches," he continued, "and before you get all high and mighty and indignant, let me assure you, they _are_ out there and they are not to be ignored nor are they to be taken lightly."

The room became quiet. Then Harriet Harman, the Secretary of State for Social Security spoke up, "You mean like Merlin?"

Tony Blair replied to her question, "Yes Madam Secretary, _exactly_ like Merlin. In fact, he is one of the first known magic users in the British Isles."

"Bollocks," called out the Secretary of State for Culture, Media and Sport, Chris Smith. "If they exist , then why do we not know of them?"

"Because they do not want us, the non magicals that is, or what _they_ call muggles, to know of their existence," explained Mister Prescott.

"But why are they hidden?"

"Who does know about this?"

"This sounds ridiculous!"

"Bloody hell, what are we going to do about this?"

Multiple cabinet members called out at once. The Prime Minister actually had a gavel at his side and rapped it loudly on the table. Everyone stopped and turned to face the Prime Minister. "I assure you all that this magic business is real. My predecessor had problems communicating with the leader of the magical society, and so have I, but apparently we have new information from Secretary Prescott. It would be wise if everyone quieted down and allowed the Secretary to complete his presentation. Hopefully that will be okay with all of you."

The murmuring stopped and the attention was once again returned to the First Secretary of State. Mister Prescott then opened the folder in front of him, reviewed the top page and then he looked at Mister Blair as he prepared to deliver his report.

"As I was saying, we have received information from a variety of sources, through MI-5 and through MI-13," stated Prescott clearly, his tone quite serious. "As the Prime Minister has explained," he continued now looking around the room at his fellow cabinet members, "there is an entire population of people who can use magic within our borders. They exist all across the world, and have usually been living amongst us peacefully. Well, at least for the past 500 years or so, more or less. However, we have learned details of events that have occurred over the past several years that were previously thought to have been mysterious acts of questionable report. Some of these incidents have been passed off as supernatural experiences, or many times just simply ignored by those who may or may not have witnessed what had occurred."

The group was now listening intently to the Secretary.

"We have also discovered that there were similar such events that occurred in the 1970s, suddenly coming to a halt by November of 1981. These events were related to what amounted to a civil war that was going on amongst these wizards and witches. A faction, known as Death Eaters," the Secretary paused as one of the ministers coughed at hearing this name. "Yes, they called themselves Death Eaters. Their leader, who was considered one of the most powerful wizards ever, condoned violence against muggles, that means those of us who don't use magic, even murder, rape and torture of non magical beings. This leader was somehow defeated near the end of 1981, but apparently he returned in 1995, and his followers once again began their acts of tyranny and terrorism. His followers had managed to even take over their magical government for a time, and as of several days ago, they were finally defeated."

"So what's the problem then?" asked the Secretary of State for Northern Ireland, Mo Mowlam.

"I have here with me, a report generated from one of our agents from MI-5, who has worked closely with MI-13," continued Prescott as he started to pass around the folders. "This agent is unusually qualified to gather this information for us."

"And why is that?" queried Secretary Smith.

"Because he is a magical, he is a wizard," announced Prescott. "He has been working for us for some time. And what we have learned, and what I am sure you will all find unacceptable, is the actions of these terrorists, these Death Eaters. As mentioned before we have documentation of their actions that include murders, kidnapping, rape, torture; and not just of adults, but children too. These individuals have no respect for life, at least if it doesn't have magical blood. Their own government is actually controlled by these pure-bloods, although many of them do not publicly acknowledge their support for these actions, it is clear where they stand as a people when their magical government does not typically even investigate crimes against non-magicals unless such crimes might reveal the presence of witches and wizards to the rest of the world and thus violate their Statutes of Secrecy."

"Statutes of Secrecy?" questioned Frank Dobson.

"They have their own regulations about keeping themselves hidden from the rest of the world, and letting the non magicals know about the magical world is punishable as a crime," confirmed Prescott. "And this punishment can and will include stopping the witch or wizard from being able to use magic in addition to what they call obliviating the non magicals of any memory of the events in question."

"What do you mean by obliviating?" asked Madam Harman.

"I mean what it sounds like, they actually have the ability to alter the memories of others," stated the First Secretary soberly.

The murmuring started once again. The Prime Minister also silenced them all with a quick rap of his gavel.

"Please summarise your findings," was the simple request he directed towards the First Secretary of State.

Prescott nodded in acknowledgement of the command from the PM. "Essentially we have a group of people, who have killed hundreds more than the IRA ever did over their entire existence. And this group can do so without our knowledge, and they can even prevent us from possibly even knowing about their actions. And to make it even worse, they have no qualms against attacking women and children."

"But didn't you already announce that this group, or their leader, was recently defeated? Surely this should not be a threat anymore," commented Chancellor Brown.

"On the contrary," explained Prescott. "This group has stayed active even when their leader was first defeated. They managed to control the magical government for a year, and many of their supporters serve on what is essentially the magical equivalent of Parliament. These people are terrorists, on a level that makes the IRA look like altar boys."

There was continued conversation amongst the cabinet as they proceeded to review the contents of the folders before them.

The Secretary of State for Scotland spoke up first. Donald Dewar was not happy with what he was reading. "So, you're telling us, you're telling me now, that there is this castle, this school for these witches and wizards, and it is located in my land, hidden somewhere, and there was a major battle fought there several days ago? How come I don't know anything about this?"

Prescott frowned at the comments from Dewar. "The simple answer is _magic_. Through this magic they can control so many things. They can control what we see and hear, they can hide their buildings, their homes, their very existence from our knowledge."

"And they are a threat to us, to our people, to our well being, to our very way of life," added Lord Robinson. "They have proven they are a threat based on these reports of people being killed, kidnapped and worse. It's no wonder there were witch hunts years ago."

"Those witch hunts of which you speak are the very reason for their secrecy and their wish to remain invisible to the rest of the normal world," commented Secretary Prescott. "The magicals pose a very clear and present danger to our nation and our people."

The Secretary for Health dropped his folder on the table and released a loud sigh. "So, then what exactly do you propose to do about this entire situation?"

"We need to neutralise the threat," said the First Secretary as though it should be clear to everyone in the room.

"You're not proposing to eradicate all witches and wizards," stated the Prime Minister. Tony Blair did not relish the idea of entering a war against such an opponent who could use magic to manipulate reality and even make you forget they exist or what they have done.

"That would be preposterous to assume that we could possibly accomplish such a feat, and besides, to even try to do so would make us no better than those whom we would like to stop," affirmed Prescott.

The Secretary for Defence than spoke up once again, "I have seen some of this information earlier this week, and I presume your coming to this meeting today with this very information includes a proposal. If so, then, let's hear it."

Prescott looked around the conference table and all eyes were now on him. He began to explain the plan slowly, "Within the magical world here in Britain, what we have learned is that the ones who are the _most_ radical, the most _likely_ to attack normal people with little or no provocation, are the pure-bloods. That is, those families that can trace back their magical heritage for many generations, with no one corrupting the family line. There is a smaller group of these families, that take their pure-blood status as wizards and witches even more seriously, and they are known as the Sacred Twenty-Eight. It is this group which I believe needs to be targeted. Not all magicals, hell, not even all so called pure-bloods need to be targeted. Just those 28 families who pose the greatest risk to our nation."

* * *

*****LDW1.2*****

* * *

 **Thursday 7 May 1998**

Harry was getting used to sleeping in a real bed at Hogwarts. While the school was significantly damaged, and there was work going on nearly around the clock to repair the damage that had been caused, there were also significant events coming up, starting with the funerals for those who did not survive as they defended the castle, the students and the side of the Light. Even those on the side of Voldemort and the Death Eaters were preoccupied with burying their dead, at least those who weren't in custody of the DMLE or on the run from the magical authorities.

The interim Minister for Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt, had been busy overseeing the restructuring of the government as well as the DMLE and depleted Auror corps. There had been many deaths and serious injuries due to the battle, and many good Aurors had been killed during the war or quit their positions under the regime that had been put in place under the imperiused Pius Thicknesse and the Death Eaters. Minerva McGonagall had taken the lead on overseeing the repairs of Hogwarts, both the castle itself and the grounds. That gave him only slightly less work to attend to, and the work was endless. However, the entire magical community seemed to be coming out from hiding — as many wizards and witches had basically learned to keep their heads down with the draconian policies of the Voldemort controlled government. Even the former head of the Muggle Born Registration Commission was in custody for her alleged crimes against wizards and witches and their families. Kingsley personally hoped she would be sentenced to Azkaban or whatever ultimate form of punishment this new government would utilise as she had caused so much pain and suffering, not the least of which was for young Harry Potter. While he was perusing the stacks of files on his desk in what had recently become his office, he had a knock on his door.

"Yes, come in," he called out, assuming that his secretary, a young witch and relatively recent graduate of Hogwarts, Penelope Clearwater, was coming to bring him more files to look through.

"Minister Shacklebolt," came the soft reply from Penelope, "you have some visitors here, and they insist on speaking with you immediately."

Kingsley shook his head slightly as he looked at the growing pile of work he needed to deal with in front of him then he turned to face Penelope, "I'm sure you can see how busy I am, whomever it is, they can make an appointment for next week."

"They say they're from the British government, and that they can't wait, or at least they won't wait," was her timid reply as she worried how he would react to the insistence of these two men on the unannounced meeting.

"But we're the government," Kingsley started to say, then he corrected himself, "wait, you mean from the British _muggle_ government? Who are they? Why are they even here?"

"All I know is that they said they are here on business of the Queen and the Prime Minister and that they needed to speak with you right away."

Shacklebolt's eyes widened slightly as he realised that he needed to speak with whomever it was that was interrupting his day. He stood up from his desk and slowly walked around to the middle of his office as he told Penelope to show them in right away. A moment later two men walked into the room without even waiting for Penelope to show them or introduce them to the minister. A tall man with reddish brown hair that was starting to get a few flecks of grey walked in, followed by another gentleman who was a little shorter and definitely stockier.

"My name is Barnes, Regis Barnes," began the first man as he extended his hand towards Kingsley. As they shook hands he continued, "With me today is Middleton, and we're here on behalf of the Prime Minister and the First Secretary of State. Mister Blair and Mister Prescott really do need to have you come and speak with them. They want to express their condolences over the recent unpleasantness and they felt it would be in the best interests of everyone to work on reestablishing relations between Her Majesty's government and the representatives here in the magical world."

Kingsley withdrew his hand from the overly forward man as he looked back and forth between the two men. "Excuse me, but who exactly are you? And how did you even get in here?"

Barnes smiled at the Minister for Magic. "Regis Barnes, I work for MI-5, and the events that have been occurring here within the wizarding world have definitely caught the attention of the ministers in the cabinet. Oh, yeah, I am also a muggle born. Hogwarts class of seventy-four."

Kingsley raised an eyebrow at this revelation. "Then our paths might have crossed," observed the minister, "I was Hogwarts class of sixty-nine."

Barnes smiled slightly, "Perhaps, but you upper years didn't pay us first and second year students much mind back then. Unless of course it was the Slytherins hazing anyone that was in Gryffindor or was a muggle born."

"Those were difficult times for many," agreed Kingsley, "but the past is behind us and we are trying to build a brand new future for our world."

"I'm sure you are," shrugged Barnes, "however, we have a request from Tony Blair, the Prime Minister himself, for you to come meet with him to discuss the recent events and to offer the help of the Queen's government in your recovering from the recent difficulties."

"Difficulties? Events? You're a wizard, and if you're a part of MI-5 you're not a fool, so we both know that you know more about what has been happening over the past several years, no, decades, then just some recent difficulties," asserted Kingsley, looking to get a little more information from this envoy from the British muggle government.

Barnes was initially a little taken aback by the comments from the interim Minister for Magic. "Be that as it may, sir, but the Prime Minister does request your presence. And, he did ask that, if necessary, I remind you, that your own ministry and Wizengamot are allowed to rule magical Britain only due to a consent decree from the royal family."

"That consent decree occurred over five hundred years ago," protested Kingsley.

"That is not at issue, sir," stated the muggle born wizard firmly. "I do believe that 10 Downing Street has a nearby apartment that is equipped with a floo entrance that is directly linked to your office here. Mister Blair does not like to be kept waiting, nor do the other cabinet members who will be present."

Shacklebolt took a deep breath as he resigned himself to attending the meeting. "Very well, then, Barnes was it? I'll meet with the Prime Minister. And when exactly is this meeting?"

"In about fifteen minutes sir," stated Barnes. "I'll go on ahead through the floo network to assure it safely enables travel to the apartment. Especially with how long it was closed down, what with the recent war and Death Eater regime."

With that, Barnes made his way to the floo, grabbed a small amount of floo powder, tossed it into the flames as he called out "Downing Street Connection." Then he disappeared into the coals.

Shacklebolt had little time to consider what to do as the other man just calmly waved towards the floo connection. "Just when I thought this job couldn't get any worse, or any stranger," he muttered as he made his way to the fireplace and then to meet with the British Prime Minister.

* * *

 **AN: Also, apologies to cts, fan-fiction author of "Love Reign O'er Me" (a story last updated in 2012) and his use of song titles by The Who for each of his chapters. Yes, I made a twist on that idea.**

* * *

Lyrics: © 1979, "Life During Wartime", Talking Heads, Fear of Music, written by: Jerry Harrison, Tina Weymouth, Chris Frantz & David Byrne


	2. Chapter 2 - No Compassion

**AN: Apparently this story is off to a slow start,, as far as readers go...**

 **However, as a reminder, this is Post Hogwarts, ignores the Epilogue and The Cursed Child. There will be character death. There will be numerous OCs. And it may get a bit dark at times...**

* * *

LDW - 2

No Compassion

 _"In a world where people have problems_

 _In this world where decisions are a way of life_

 _Other people's problems, they overwhelm my mind_

 _They say compassion is a virtue, but I don't have the time"_

* * *

The Weasley family was having a wake at the Burrow on this day as they prepared for Fred's funeral, which was scheduled for Friday. Harry was not exactly comfortable about the idea of going to meet the Weasley family as he felt guilty for what had happened. George had lost an ear the previous summer when they had worked to rescue Harry from the Dursley's and they had been waylaid by Death Eaters. Now, Fred, George's twin, had died at the final battle at Hogwarts. Harry had continued to review everything that had happened that night in his mind, worried that perhaps if he had done things differently maybe there would not have been as many deaths. Hermione called his name to get his attention as they were about to step through the floo from Professor McGonagall's office and into the Weasley's sitting room.

Harry was startled from his somber musings by his best friend and gave her an awkward smile.

"Harry James Potter," began Hermione, "you stop your brooding this instant!"

Harry blinked at his friend, wondering how she knew what he was thinking. Hermione could read his looks and most often his thoughts as well. "I've known you too well and been through too much with you Harry, so yes, I know what you were thinking, and no, you can't deny that your were blaming yourself and trying to figure out what you could have done different to save people's lives, people like Fred," she stated. Then she continued softly, "But Harry, there is nothing more you could have done. You won, you did what almost everyone thought was impossible. And before you beat yourself up about Fred, or Remus, or Tonks anymore, consider that maybe if you had done things any differently you might not have been successful and you might not have beaten Riddle and we might not have won. So, you need to, you must focus on the positives, not the negatives." She reached out and gently squeezed his hands in hers.

Harry was about to argue and then he looked her in her chocolate brown eyes and saw her compassion and friendship for him, and he always knew how smart she was about so many things that he took a deep breath and actually considered her words. "I guess I see your point, but that doesn't make it any easier."

Hermione stepped forward and gave Harry a gentle hug. "No one said this was easy. Not what you had to do, not what you accomplished, but what you did Harry was give all of us a future. A future worth living because there is no Voldemort."

Harry hugged her back, something he was not particularly accustomed to, and he relaxed. "I know, Hermione, I know, but it is still hard."

Hermione stepped back from him and looked him in the eyes as she added, "But if there was ever anyone who could stand up and face what is hard and do the right thing, it has always been you, Harry."

The two smiled at each other briefly and then both abruptly turned away, feeling a little silly and awkward with their sudden opening up of emotions. "Anyway, we need to get going to the Burrow," added Harry, feeling his words were a little lame.

Hermione nodded and then the two stepped through the fireplace as it glowed green when they tossed the floo powder into the flames.

They stepped out one after the other into the Burrow, with Hermione immediately turning to look to see who was there and Harry losing his balance and falling onto a sofa. Hermione just shook her head, "You really need to learn how to step out of a floo properly, Harry. After all these years one would think you would get the hang of it."

Harry brushed himself off as he stood up, "The only type of magical travel I have ever enjoyed, or been any good at, is flying on a broom."

"You can't fly everywhere," admonished Hermione.

"No, but he sure can try," stated George as he walked into the room.

Harry and Hermione were startled by the sudden arrival of George Weasley, who apparently was coping better than they had expected with the loss of his twin. George gave them both his patented smile as he shook Harry's hand and gave a quick hug to Hermione.

"I am so sorry, George," said Harry looking for something to say to the young man.

"Harry, there is nothing more you could have done," he offered soberly, "bloody hell mate, you did so much for all of us, particularly for Fred and I. We wouldn't have been able to start our joke shop if it wasn't for your support. You've done so much for us as a family, and for all of us as a society because _you_ ended the war for us."

Harry was learning to take the heartfelt thanks despite still not feeling like a hero, but he did understand that many people in magical Britain would hail him as their hero, yet there would still be those that blamed him either for personal losses or the defeat of the pure blood agenda and Voldemort.

Hermione took Harry's arm as she started to lead him out of the house, "I think everyone must be outside, Mrs. Weasley said they were preparing tables under a tent outside for everyone who was coming."

George smiled at them as they left, "I'll join you out there shortly," he added jovially.

"See Harry," pointed out Hermione, "even George doesn't blame you about Fred."

The two stepped outside and started to make their way over to the clearing where the tent had been set up. The mood was quite different from the last time Harry had arrived at the Burrow, sad but friendly. They started to notice several people they knew from school over by the tent when from their left came a tall red headed young woman.

"Hi, Harry," said Ginny awkwardly.

Hermione looked between the two and stepped away to give them some time alone.

"Hey Gin," began Harry, "I know we haven't really had a chance to speak since the end of the battle…"

Harry's words were cut off as Ginny stepped up and gave him a hug and then a kiss on the lips. Harry tensed up and then backed away. Harry turned a little pale as he stuttered a response to her actions, "I'm, I'm just not ready yet," he pleaded, hoping not to break her heart.

"But, you said you were breaking up with me last year because you were worried about my safety," she protested, her eyes starting to water up. "We're safe, we're all safe and it's all because of you. We can be together again. We can be together now!"

Harry felt nauseated as he listened to her words. "But so much has happened. We have all been through so much, I've been through so much. I like you, Ginny, I really do. I'm just not sure that I'm ready to be boyfriend-girlfriend, at least not yet. Everything is so weird, so different. I don't know what I want about anything anymore. I need time to sort everything out. I can't just jump back to where we were before the end of last year. That wouldn't be fair to you. Not now."

Ginny couldn't stop a tear from running down her cheek. She then closed her eyes and forced a smile to her face. "I was really afraid that you might pull away. But I need you. You've always been there for me. You saved me in the chamber, you saved me in all those stories my mom would tell me when I was a little girl."

"What stories?" asked a now confused Harry.

Ginny covered her mouth as her eyes went wide. "Oh, Merlin, I didn't mean to say anything about that." Her face turned red and then she ran off to the house.

Harry was contemplating heading after her, but whether it was feeling a little cowardice or having a sudden surge of insightfulness, Harry decided that it would be best to leave her alone, at least for now. Behind him he heard the not too surprising sound of rising voices. Voices of the two people he knew the best in all of the world. "Now what are they arguing about," Harry thought to himself. He decided that he should really go and see if he needed to sort those two out, and he was already growing tired of their recurrent bickering.

Ron noticed Harry walking up from behind Hermione, and immediately he tried to drag him into their conversation. "Harry, mate, could you please explain to Hermione just why it's foolish of her to go to Australia and try and find her parents?"

Hermione spun around and was about to say something more to Harry when he gave her a slight shake of his head. He then turned to Ron, "I really don't know what you're talking about, Ron. Why _would_ it be foolish for her to go to Australia?"

Ron threw his hands up in the air, "Why? You ask why? Its obvious why, because they're muggles, they could be anywhere! How would she even go about trying to find them?"

Hermione was about to try and answer Ron but Harry carefully waved her off. "Because they are muggles it should be easy, Ron. Hermione gave them new names, new identities. She knows those names, and she probably knows what city they are in. All she has to do is go to that city, look them up in a phone book, and either call them or go to their address. Probably their work address, but she might be able to find their home address, too."

"Why do muggles put their names on phoney books? Are they not really books? How do you find the names then if it's not really a book?" Ron asked, showing is complete ignorance of the muggle world, yet again.

"Ron, it is a phone book, as in telephone book," explained Hermione, her exasperation clearly evident. "When people have telephones, they publish a book listing everyone in a particular area with a phone and you look up the person's name and then find the phone number listed next to it."

Ron scratched his head for a moment, and then started talking about Australia once again. "So what if you find their names in a book? They're probably happy and all so you can just leave them alone. It's not like they remember you anymore anyway."

Hermione was becoming livid with the callousness of her supposed boyfriend. "I don't know how you can be so cruel to say such a thing," snapped Hermione, with tears streaming down her face. Then she turned around and started to walk quickly in the direction of the house.

Ron shrugged and looked at Harry. "Who can understand such crazy women?"

Harry shook his head briefly then looked at his friend, "Obviously not you," he stated. "That was about as thick headed as I have ever seen you behave. They're her parents, Ron. And she's probably the smartest witch of this age, so if anyone can get them their memories back it would be her. And here you are, about to remember your brother's life, and everyone is sad for losing him, and you belittle Hermione and her desire to get her family back."

"But they're muggles Harry," complained Ron. "It's not like they will ever be a part of our world, so Hermione won't be having much if any contact with them anyway."

"Ron, I really can't help you at all here," observed Harry. "You have really dug yourself into a deep hole. And in doing so, you probably ruined any chance of keeping Hermione as a girlfriend."

"She'll calm down when she gets back from Australia," stated Ron, sure of his beliefs in the situation.

"She may be calmed down if she finds her parents and brings them back here to England," agreed Harry, "but she won't be calmed down with you. You know how her mind works, you've argued with her often enough over the past seven years."

Ron was still clueless about the seriousness of his faux pas with Hermione, despite Harry trying to explain everything to him. He looked around and turned back to the large tent. "I think they have more food brought out by now," he said as he let his stomach override his mind once again and started to head off to find something to eat.

Harry just stared off at his best friend, still amazed with how thick headed and callous he could be, and still controlled by his hunger more than anything else.

* * *

LDW 2.1

* * *

Kingsley Shacklebolt found himself sitting at a rather large conference table, facing the Prime Minister of the United Kingdom. They were accompanied by The First Secretary of State, John Prescott; the Secretary of State for the Home Department, Jack Straw; and Lord Robertson of Port Ellen, the Secretary of State for Defence. In addition, sitting in the room at the back wall behind him were the two men who had come to the Ministry of Magic to retrieve him for this meeting.

"It is a pleasure to meet you once again, Kingsley," began Mister Blair. "The recent happenings in your world has definitely caught our attention. Your services last year as a personal guard were greatly appreciated, and we have just recently learned of the extent of the battles which your people have faced."

Kingsley nodded his head slightly to acknowledge the Prime Minister. "Hopefully Her Majesty is aware that the threats to our world and yours has been ended with the recent confrontation."

The Secretary of State for Defence cut in, "We have all been made well aware of the 'recent confrontation' which took place."

The First Secretary of State cast a slight glare towards the Secretary for Defence, "Now, Lord Robertson, we do not want to give our guest the wrong impression." Then he turned towards Kingsley, "Now, Mister Shacklebolt, we are deeply concerned about all of the events which have been occurring over the past few years."

"Actually, there are events we are concerned about that have been occurring over the past twenty or so years," added Mister Straw.

Kingsley was no longer feeling welcome nor comfortable where this conversation was heading. He looked at all of the men around the table then turned to face the Prime Minister. "Mister Blair, let me assure that the recent difficulties have been addressed. The leader of the insurgent movement has been dispatched, and his followers have been defeated."

Mister Prescott then spoke up again, "A curious statement for you to make, Minister Shacklebolt. To be clear, we have information that indicates that you have many events that need to be accounted for. This self proclaimed Dark Lord who was recently defeated, I believe he called himself Voldemort, had commanded his followers to feel free to attack any of our people. However, the problem that we experienced was that we were not aware of all of these attacks that he personally, and his followers, made against non magicals, or what you call muggles."

"This obliviation business, quite nasty stuff, if you ask me," added Lord Robertson.

"You must understand," Kingsley said as he started to explain the actions of the Obliviation Teams, "we have a responsibility to keep our existence secret from non magical people, or as we say, muggles. Our secrecy is incredibly important to assure our safety."

"I appreciate your need for safety," observed the Prime Minister, "however, I am deeply distressed when these acts of your Obliviation Teams, which we would deem as a type of assault against our people, has become quite unacceptable. Oh, yes, I understand the need for your secrecy. Accidental magic, I have heard of these things, is something that I can appreciate the need for making non magical people forget about. Even the stray use of magic that creates unusual events which can lead to confusion and suspicion and you need to deal with that. However, when I am told of stories of kidnapping, murders, rape, unspeakable acts committed against our people, well, that is something that cannot be excused. And it cannot and will not be tolerated."

The Secretary of State for the Home Department spoke next. "Mister Shacklebolt, how familiar are you with our society? We are not strangers to violence. Recently, Mister Blair managed to secure a cease fire with a dangerous group, the IRA. These people are looked at by most of our society as terrorists, while some, a minority mind you, view them as some sort of freedom fighters. They would attack the general public. Set off bombs in bus stations, or train stations. So, we are accustomed to dealing with those who seek to harm the innocent. But be assured, we will not tolerate any such activity, whether it be from supposed Irish freedom fighters, or from witches and wizards."

Kingsley was shifting in his seat slightly, but he was maintaining a mask of indifference to the comments from these men. "As you may recall, I accompanied the Prime Minister to many of those negotiations as I was then posing as a body guard to protect him from possible attacks from the Death Eaters. So, yes, I understand your plight, truly I do," he began in response to the narrative that Mister Straw had just laid out. "While I understand and sympathise with your concerns, our own people were not immune from the actions of this group of terrorists who tried to seize control of our government, in fact they had managed to do so last summer and we have just this past week wrested rightful control back from them. Also, we have taken steps to assure that such actions do not happen again."

"I was not finished," stated Mister Straw. "Destruction of property, such as blowing up bridges, incinerating buildings, all with associated casualties, these events cannot and will not be ignored."

Kingsley was becoming more defensive. "With all of our magic, we cannot bring back those who have died, but we can help with the rebuilding, if that is what you desire."

"What we desire," snapped a clearly irritated Lord Robertson, "is to know that we are safe. Safe from mysterious people waving wands and performing who knows what types of magic. Safe from having our memories altered. Safe from having our homes invaded. Safe from having someone blow up bridges and then try and make people forget about what happened. Safe from you and your kind of people who seem to have no regard for others."

Tony Blair then spoke up again, "My apologies for my cabinet members, they mean well, as in they take their responsibilities for the people of the United Kingdom very seriously. And forgive me if this comes across as rude or harsh, but it is clear from all that we have learned that your people, these wizards and witches, they are, or at least can be, very dangerous and do pose a serious threat to the well being of the people, and thus they pose a threat to our country. Surely you can appreciate our concern."

Kingsley was trying to find some way to save face with these men. "I assure you, Prime Minister, that we are doing everything necessary to make magical Britain safe and secure, and to protect those who are non magical from wayward witches and wizards."

Mister Prescott coughed slightly and then he interjected his own thought. "You may be doing everything you can, but I fear that is not enough to secure the safety of our people. Barnes, please distribute the folders you have prepared."

Regis Barnes stood up from where he had been sitting and picked up a stack of folders and placed one in front of each of the men seated at the table. Kingsley was surprised to see that they all had a ribbon securing them and in bold red letters they were stamped with "Top Secret" across the front. Regis then waved his wand slightly then commented, "You may all remove the seals now, the magical protections have been lifted."

Kingsley raised an eyebrow at the blatant use of magic in front of all of these men. But then he assumed that there was no violation of the Statutes of Secrecy as these were leaders of the government and as such they would have to know of the existence of the magical world. As the men opened their folders Tony Blair explained their contents and the presence of the two men in the back of the room. "Yes, Mister Shacklebolt, our government has been keenly aware of the magical world for some time. However, when I first became Prime Minister, your predecessor, a certain Pius Thicknesse, was less than willing to communicate with us about anything. My predecessor, John Major, had limited contact with either Rufus Scrimgeour or with, what was that idiot's name? Oh, yes, Cornelius Fudge. But please do not fall under the misperception that we have been blind to what has been going on in your world. The queen has been most displeased to learn of the state of affairs and the lack of true leadership within the Ministry of Magic. This Death Eater problem has been allowed to continue for far too long. This pure-blood elitism, or tyranny, needs to be ended. As a nation, we have previously struggled with our own divisive issues, and thankfully, we usually muddle through them pretty well. To help us muddle through this quagmire of magical terrorism that has been ongoing, we are grateful to have Mister Barnes and Mister Middleton, both of whom are what you would call muggle born wizards. They explained to me that they felt unwelcome within the magical society, the society that your people led them to believe they had to join and forsake the world in which they were raised because of their unique ability to use magic. But this attitude or pure-blood supremacy does not leave any room for the likes of them. And your society tries to prohibit their rejoining the muggle world. However, to our benefit, they both obtained degrees by attending muggle university and they ended up being recruited to work for us, in our Secret Service divisions. As MI-5 became more and more aware of unusual occurrences that could not easily be explained, the benefits of having wizards or witches who could explain what was happening within the magical world became quite evident. And I'm sure that even with your being named Minister for Magic only a short time ago, you have already learned of the need to be able to secure the safety of your people. So, I would assume that you would understand our need to address the fact that having certain individuals who pose a significant threat and risk to our citizens is, quite frankly, not acceptable. To find a way to deal with magic, and its ability to hide itself and its inherent dangers from our world, we needed to develop ways to observe and detect magic and ways to countermand the magical threats that exist."

Kingsley shifted again in his seat as he was clearly being eyed carefully by everyone else in the room. "As I said, I can appreciate your concerns, Prime Minister, and as you are well aware I only became the interim minister this past week, but I assure you that we are working diligently on preventing any further injustices."

That Prime Minister listened to the remarks from the Minister for Magic and then he made a simple but clear reply. "Oh, I am quite sure that you and your people will be doing all that you can. However, with the help of people like Mister Barnes and Mister Middleton, working on collaboration with MI-5's Q division, we have developed ways to monitor and detect magic use."

Shack was clearly startled by this revelation. "That is most unusual and unexpected. Could you tell me more about these methods?"

Mr. Prescott turned to look at the Prime Minister who gave a subtle shake of his head. Then turning back to the Minister for Magic, the First Secretary of State simply said, "I do not believe that would be in _our_ best interests."

Then Lord Robertson spoke up, "If I may be so bold as to point out that the actions that have been taken by certain individuals or groups that are under your responsibility could be taken as an act of war against the people of Great Britain. Coordinated attacks against civilians, destruction of personal property, blowing up bridges; those things are acts of terrorism. The Prime Minister has made his stance on terrorists clear. We will _not_ tolerate such activity. Now, if there is a chance for negotiations that are meaningful, that might be an option, but these people, these animals that have done such atrocities against average citizens, well, it has been made clear that there is no negotiating with people like that."

"Then what more would you have me do?" asked Shacklebolt. "We have already put an end to their organisation, their leaders have been dealt with, those who fought along side with them have been arrested and will stand trial for their crimes. We do have the means to determine exactly what their actions have been, so we do not need to worry about people giving us false reports."

"That is fine, Minister," said Mister Prescott as he nodded his head, "that is all well and good; however, we cannot rely on the actions of your ministry alone to assure the safety of our citizens. We can and will take any and all actions to assure their safety."

Kingsley found that last comment to be quite disconcerting. He wondered silently just what they had come up with — was it actually possible for the muggles to detect magic? He couldn't be sure of whether their claims were to be believed or not. "Mister Prescott," came Kingsley's hesitant reply, "I am not sure what you are driving at with your comment. Are you threatening me or the people, the witches and wizards, that I represent?"

The First Secretary of State paused as he considered his answer. "Consider my words a warning, and a clear message. Your people have your statutes of secrecy to protect you from the people we represent. I understand your concerns with the previous history of witch hunts years ago, and the simple fact that magic would be so strange and unusual that many of us muggles would be scared, or angry, or perhaps even unpredictable in how we react to the use of magic or even the knowledge that it is, in fact, real. So, while your statutes of secrecy are designed for your protection, we must take measures that are designed for our protection."

"And this monitoring and magical detection is your means of protection," summarised Shacklebolt.

"It is _a part_ of our means of protection, yes," agreed Prescott.

"And the other part, or parts?" asked Kingsley.

"The right to take actions as needed to provide for our safety," came the blunt reply, this time from Lord Robertson.

There was an awkward pause in the conversation at that point, and after a minute of eerie silence, Tony Blair spoke up to alleviate the growing tension. "Minister Shacklebolt, I am glad that you were able to come today so that we may get to know you and you get to know us. I hope that we can have open communications going forward, as opposed to the type of relationships our predecessors had, which could be described as tenuous at best. Please do not hesitate to contact any of us, and feel free to use either Mister Barnes or Mister Middleton as a liaison in communications with us. I am sure that you have plenty of work to get back to with all the recent events you are still sorting out, so let us not delay your return to your duties any further."

With those words the meeting was clearly at an end, and Kingsley was unsure just how helpful the meeting had truly been.

* * *

LDW 2.2

* * *

Harry was back at Hogwarts, and he was trying to decide whether or not he should return to actually take his seventh year classes. He also had a dilemma about what to do about Gringotts. He knew his family vault was finally accessible to him as he had come of age, however, he wasn't sure exactly how he would be received by the goblins after the little stunt that he had pulled the other day to retrieve Hufflepuff's Cup. They could decide to just decapitate him with one of the large battle axes the guards at the doors always carried, they could bind him and throw him into their mines and be forced to work for hard labor, but he was pretty sure they wouldn't just thank him for getting rid of Voldemort, despite what plans the former Dark Lord would have had for all of the goblins.

Hermione would have clear recommendations for him, but she was also in trouble as she had been with him when they broke into the vault and stole the dragon and destroyed part of the bank while they made their escape. But Hermione would argue that freeing the Ukrainian Iron Belly was worth whatever trouble they got into for their actions. Besides, Hermione was soon to be travelling to Australia to search for her parents. He was fairly sure that she would return for her seventh year of classes once she found her parents.

No, Harry needed to sort this out on his own. Perhaps the next time he saw Kingsley Shacklebolt he might be able to help with negotiating with the goblins, he was the interim Minister for Magic after all.

* * *

LDW 2.3

* * *

Regis Barnes was sitting with Andrew Middleton in a small conference room, waiting to be joined by their immediate supervisor. The door to the conference room opened and a stern looking woman stepped in with a handful of folders in her hand. She was accompanied by a taller grey haired man in a plain looking light brown suit and a bow tie. The woman promptly took the seat at the head of the table and did not even bother to greet the two men already in the room. The taller man sat down opposite from her and patiently waited for the meeting to begin.

The woman looked up briefly at Barnes, as she simply commanded, "Please make sure that there is no way that we will be overheard during this meeting."

"Very well, mum," came the quick reply, followed by his drawing his wand and casting a spell to make sure that any potential listening devices would not work. "We have complete privacy now, mum."

"Very good," she thanked him tersely and then slid the folders to the three men in the room. "You are already aware of our delicate mission. You are the first commissioned agents for the reformed MI-13, and it will be your role to assure the safety of the citizens of our country from the threat of these magicals. With the information we have gathered, much of it with your help, Barnes, we have the lists before you. As you all know, the Sacred Twenty-Eight are considered the root of the current threat to our society. While the actions taken by the group known as Death Eaters and their leader, who named himself Lord Voldemort, cannot be directly tied to this group of families, it is this core group that has been the largest base of support for the Death Eaters and the Pure Blood movement within the magical world."

"Excuse me, M," interrupted Middleton, who rarely seemed to voice his opinions, "but aren't there some light sided families in what is considered the Sacred Twenty-Eight?"

"How very observant of you, Middleton," she replied with a slight smile. "Within your folders, if you would take a look, is our analysis of all of the families that are listed in the Sacred Twenty-Eight. Apparently a couple of the families may have already been neutralised. However, once the mission begins, it will only be a matter of time before the others figure out what is going on."

Barnes then spoke tentatively, "I was sitting in the room then the PM and several of his cabinet members met with the Minister for Magic. I know they spoke of taking decisive action as needed, but do we have authorisation for this mission?"

M narrowed her eyes at the man briefly before responding to the question. "The security advisors to the Prime Minister have met and they have authorised MI-5 and MI-13 to use _all_ necessary means to be sure that we are safe from the threats of the magical world. Upon their thorough analysis of the data available, the largest threat still present is deemed to come from the few remaining truly Pure-blood families. The decision to eliminate these families has been made at the highest level, and we are the ones who have been commissioned to see to the completion of this arduous task. Clearly, this will _not_ be pleasant business."

Middleton raised a finger to indicate he had a question. "What about children in the families?"

"Each family is reviewed in detail. Most of the families either have no children or their children are now considered 'of age' by the Ministry of Magic, or they are close to being of age. Any underaged children are to be left unharmed. They will be brought in to the offices of MI-13 where a plan for placing them in closely monitored foster care will then be enacted."

Both Middleton and Barnes visibly relaxed as they heard that news. Then M opened her folder and the other followed suit. "So, to recap, these are the families and the information we have on them."

"We have the Abbot family, their youngest is of age. It is rumoured at this time that their family is now half-blood, but due to their ties to so many pure-blood families they are considered a family that is at risk," she stated.

"At risk?" wondered Middleton, wanting to be clear.

"At risk for taking up the pure-blood cause once the other families are being eliminated," explained M. She turned to the next page. "Then we have Avery, it is unknown to us at this time whether or not this family has been fully eliminated. We are not to assume that they are. You will need to discover if any family members survived the recent battle, and even if they are in custody of the Ministry of Magic, they are _still_ a target."

Both Barnes and Middleton nodded in acknowledgement of this pronouncement.

M continued with the next page in the folder, "Black. There apparently are only a few surviving members. Of note, one is a young infant, although his mother's family was apparently kicked out of the Black family, he is still a Black. He was recently orphaned during the magical war, and is under the care of his grandmother, Andromeda Black Tonks, who is a Black by birth although she was kicked out of the family. Still, they are considered a risk. There is also her sister, Narcissa Black Malfoy. She is also a target as part of the Malfoy family. We will get to them soon enough. And lastly, there is another, Harry Potter, who has become some sort of hero to the magical people. He will need to be dealt with on some level. The Prime Minister has not determined exactly what shall be done with him, but you will need to monitor his actions and his whereabouts nonetheless."

She paused as everyone turned to the next family page. "Bulstrode, the youngest family member is now of age. They are to be targeted for elimination." She then turned to the next page, "Burke, we need more information on this family, it is unclear if there are any current surviving members."

"Carrow," she said and then paused. "This family is expected to be eliminated. The two youngest daughters are nearly of age. Depending on when you get around to this family, either the twins are to be brought in to the department or they are to be eliminated based on the previously discussed policy." She turned to the next page, "Crouch, well it seems as if this magical war already did our work for us as this family has already been declared extinct."

She then glanced at the next page, "Fawley, another family which we need more information on. Next we have Flint, and they have no children that are under age, so they are to be dealt with. You will need to determine just who survived the battle. There may be one or more Flints in custody and one or more Flints may be on the run from the Ministry of Magic." She paused to take a deep breath. Then she continued after turning to the next family. "The Gaunts have already been eliminated. The Greengrass family is to be targeted, their youngest daughter is nearly of age, and she is to be brought in. The older daughter is now of age and is considered an active target."

Her comments were met with silent nodding in understanding. M turned to the next family, "The Lestrange family, quite nasty people from all the reports we have. If they have not been eliminated, then you are to either track them down and do so, or if they are in custody, the mission still needs to be completed. Based on their known actions they are considered a top priority."

After taking a deep breath, she turned to the next page, "Longbottom. This one may be a bit of a sticky wicket. The elder woman of the family is considered truly light, but it is expected that she will soon die as she is getting quite frail. If you do need to encounter her, she is _not_ to be underestimated. Her son and daughter-in-law are in the magical hospital's long term care facility and are considered to be of no threat. Their son, Neville, her grandson, however, is now of age and he is considered a potential threat. If not eliminated initially, he will need to be watched closely."

She then continued, "The Macmillan family is to be targeted, they have no under age children." She then took another deep breath as she looked at the next page. "Malfoy, Three surviving members are Lucius, his wife Narcissa who is a Black by birth as we already discussed and their son Draco. The father is considered highly dangerous due to his unscrupulous nature. He managed to get away with a multitude of wrongs, mostly through bribery and conniving back stabbing. Despite some recent reports that all three may have done some small deeds that may have helped with the defeat of the usurper Voldemort, they are considered quite dangerous and are most definitely to be targeted."

"Next we have the Nott family. The youngest son is of age and did survive the recent conflict. He and all surviving family members are to be targeted.

"Ollivander," she said then tilted her head. "No young children as far as we know. If the old man survived, he is considered highly dangerous to encounter, and must be targeted."

"Parkinson, another family with a long history of leaning towards the dark side of magic. Long time supporters of the Pure Blood supremacist movement. Their youngest daughter is now of age. Her brothers are all of age. Clearly, they are all to be targeted."

"Prewett," she said and then quickly glanced over the paper for this family. Then looking up she added, "Only one surviving member born as a Prewett and that is one Molly Weasley. The Weasley family themselves will be discussed shortly. She is to be considered a target."

"Next we have Rosier, and the surviving family members are to be targeted. Next is Rowle, we believe the family was already eliminated in the recent war, but we need you to obtain confirmation on this."

"Selwyn, this is another family that may have been eliminated. And again, we need either confirmation of the family's elimination or any survivors targeted and then eliminated."

When the group turned to the next page, there was an awkward silence.

"Shacklebolt," she said slowly. Then she looked at everyone in the room. "He is to be tracked, which should not be too hard as he is the current Minster for Magic. As of right now, no action other than tracking him is being ordered. Of course, you will be notified if that changes at all."

They quickly turned to the next page. "Shafiq, targeted, Slughorn, targeted, and Travers, targeted. All of those families may be eliminated. Although, our resources tell us that all three may prove to be a little difficult to track down.

They all flipped through the pages of those families and then they turned to the next family. "Weasley. Many family members, and the youngest is soon to be of age. They have a reputation of supporting the light sided faction for many generations, however, they are very much a pure-blood family and based on several sources are considered a family that is at risk for turning. They are all to be targeted."

Everyone turned to the final page in the folder. "Yaxley is another confirmed Death Eater family. There are no known underage members, and we need confirmation that they are already eliminated, or they need to be targeted and eliminated without prejudice."

The group all closed the folders and then M looked across the table at the other man who had joined her. "Now, Q, here, has worked on creating the tools which you will need, as you well know. The information which you have been providing us over the past ten years has proven quite useful." She then nodded to him to continue.

"Right," said Q as he acknowledged M across the table. "We have many new devices that can help you in your efforts on this mission. Please be careful and use them as directed, as there are too many individuals within MI-5 and MI-6 who seem to take pleasure in how quickly they can destroy anything which we have created here at Q division."

Barnes and Middleton nodded in understanding.

Q gave the briefest of nods in return, then he continued, "We have these magic vision binoculars, they use a special frequency to see magic fields, including when objects are hidden by magic. Our research indicates that even the fidelius charm cannot prevent something from being seen with these special lenses. The only thing that we have not yet tested them on is a fully functional invisibility cloak."

Middleton raised an eyebrow, "And why haven't you done that test yet?"

Q looked at the man as if he had two heads for asking such a question. "Do you have any idea how bloody hard is to get a hold of one of those things? And I don't mean the cheap and useless ripoffs that some of these magical joke shops sell, I'm talking about the real deal here. They are incredibly rare. While the principals involved should allow anyone hiding under an invisibility cloak to be seen, we just have not had anything to work with to test it. Right, so moving on, we have managed to acquire some Peruvian darkness powder. This stuff can be useful in a myriad of situations, and if you need me to tell what those situations are, just get up and leave now."

The two magical agents for the newly reestablished MI-13 sat there with blank looks on their faces.

"Right," began Q once again, "as far as those binoculars, those same lenses will be equipped on your teams' weapons. We also have these nifty little devices," he continued as he placed small grey spheres on the table, "which are useful to an extent. They act like anti-magic bombs. Useful in taking down all manner of magical wards when they go off; however, using them will most likely alert anyone to your presence as they will not prevent any associated alarms triggered by the magical wards collapsing from going off, but it will allow you access to your targets."

Middleton wondered out loud, "But I thought that integrating magic with muggle technology, particularly electronics and computer chips couldn't work."

"Physics, man, simple physics," stated Q with obvious irritation in his voice. "Were you sleeping during one of the earlier briefings we had? Magic is a form of energy. We have not been able to fully quantify it or harness it, however it does have some properties that make it similar to light energy or electromagnetic waves. Using such principles as how to shield electronic devices from an electromagnetic pulse has been shown to be quite useful in protecting such delicate circuitry from the disrupting the effects of magic. Hell, if magic wasn't so damned secretive and our work so clandestine, our lab boys might be up for a Nobel Prize for some of the amazing things that they have come up with."

"So, then," observed Barnes, "these little grey anti magic bombs are like small electromagnetic pulses, disrupting the magical fields."

Q through his hands up in the air as he exclaimed, "Precisely! At least someone has been paying attention."

"Bloody Ravenclaw," muttered Middleton under his breath, although Barnes heard the comment quite clearly.

M then spoke up, "So, you your teams will have your equipment supplied to you and you should prepare for your first target. I presume you have selected one already."

"Yes, mum," replied Barnes. "We also have prepared special incendiary devices that will leave a large residue of magic, thus masking what actually happened and leading the DMLE investigators on a wild goose chase."

"Very well," stated M acknowledging the information, "have your teams assembled and you begin first thing tomorrow."

* * *

 **AN: and there you have it, Chapter 2. More chapters are already written, just working on editing and making sure the story stays consistent...**


	3. Chapter 3 - Pulled Up

**AN: One easy step to get your story ignored on - don't mark key characters in the story information page. (Adding those names, well, the results were an obvious immediate increase in readers.) One sure way to get angry reactions to your story — try to combine magic and science in away that JKR never hinted at in her stories. Another sure way to get more angry responses — have non magicals react emotionally and illogically to perceived threats. Oh well, this story will continue to have combinations of magic and technology, just because I have chosen to do that. And yes, there will come responses from the magical world to everything that is happening, but that does not mean that the responses will be quick, but they will come — eventually. Patience, the story will continue to unfold…**

 **Thanks for reading. Thanks for reviewing. Yes, this is a dark story. And no, I did not intend for there to be a reflection on the current politcal climate anywhere. This is fiction. Based on a twisted idea I had.**

* * *

LDW - 3

* * *

Pulled Up

 _"I was complaining, I was down in the dumps_

 _I feel so string now 'cause you pulled me up!_

 _Pull me up up up up up up up up_

 _I slipped, and I got pulled,_

 _pulled up, I tripped, and then you pulled,_

 _you pulled me up"_

* * *

LDW - 3.1

* * *

Harry was grateful for the opportunity to meet with Kingsley Shacklebolt as he was hoping to persuade him to not have any elaborate ceremonies, or preferably to not have any sort of ceremony at all in regard to the victory over Voldemort and the Death Eaters. The interim Minister for Magic had arrived at Hogwarts to review the progress that had been made in the repairs on the school. The two were given leave to use Professor McGonagall's new office as headmistress of the school.

"Thank you for meeting with me, Minister," began Harry.

Kingsley laughed slightly, "I may be the interim Minister for Magic, Harry, but please, call me Kingsley, or Shack. After all we have been through, after everything you have been through, I do believe you have earned that right."

Harry turned a little red in the cheeks at this pronouncement, then he continued, "Well, Kingsley, I was really hoping that we wouldn't have to have any sort of public to do about everything that happened. I know that Fudge was eager for all sorts of publicity, and I was really looking forward to staying out of the spotlight."

"Having a ceremony is not really about you and it is most definitely not about me," replied Kingsley, "but it is about giving the witches and wizards a time to publicly acknowledge everything that has happened. It gives us a time to remember those who died or were injured. To recall the sacrifices that were made to end this war, to remember the atrocities that occurred so that they won't be allowed to happen again, and also to remember those brave individuals who were instrumental in the ultimate victory."

Harry squirmed in the chair across from Kingsley. "We really have no choice, as the first official meeting of the Wizengamot since the end of the war already has voted unanimously to award you, Ron and Hermione the Order of Merlin, First Class."

Harry ran his hand through his hair as he considered what he had just learned. "I suppose that is to be expected," he said, resigning himself to having to accept the award and the publicity.

There was an awkward minute of silence before Kingsley spoke again. "I do have some concerning news to share with you, Harry, and I'm not sure how much I can tell you or how to go about this."

Harry raised his eyebrows as he heard the serious tone in the interim minister's voice.

Shack continued, "I met with the Prime Minister the other day, and some of his cabinet. They are aware of the recent conflict and they are aware of the collateral damage that affected muggles, both during this war and the one when Voldemort first came to power."

Harry wasn't sure which part of the revelation was more surprising, that Kingsley had met with Tony Blair or that the Prime Minister and his cabinet were aware of the goings on within the magical world.

"Don't be so surprised, Harry," stated Kingsley, "it is only natural that the muggle government is aware of our existence. The concerning matter is their reaction to the recent war and the activities of the Death Eaters." He paused to allow Harry to consider this information. "They tend to have a view that the Death Eaters and those behind the war and supporting them are terrorists and a threat to the citizens of muggle England and all of Great Britain."

Harry nodded as he considered what Shack had told him. "Well, that is not a hard conclusion to reach, considering their willingness to attack innocent muggles and all of the atrocities that they got away with during both wars."

"However, their concern is not simply appeased by telling them we have the matter in hand," added Shack. "I fear that they will be closely following anyone whom they consider to be a potential threat."

Harry was a little confused at this additional information. "But what does this have to do with me?"

"There are two reasons why I am concerned for you," explained Kingsley. "The first being that it is now well known that you are the one who defeated Voldemort, who is known to have been one of the most powerful wizards to have ever lived. So it is assumed that you must have similar or perhaps even greater power. That alone makes you a potential threat. The second issue is that you are part of the Black family. Your godfather's family has quite a reputation for being dark and dangerous, and as you are related to that family you may well be painted with a broad stroke as being similar to them."

"But what does that mean for me, personally?" wondered Harry out loud.

"I am not sure what it means for you," answered the minister, "however I do know that they will be keeping a close eye on the magical world and they are developing ways to track the use of magic."

Harry stiffened at this thought. "Are we about to return to the medieval witch hunts that led to the creation of the Statutes of Secrecy?"

Kingsley frowned at the idea of the previous attacks against witches and wizards. "Let us hope that it does not come to that," he said soberly. "But we still do not know what exactly they have planned, and I do not expect that any who have fought for the side of the Light have anything to worry about from the muggle government."

* * *

LDW-3.2

* * *

 **Monday 11 May 1998**

Harry Potter had slept in, something he was not accustomed to doing, whether when he was living at 4 Privet Drive, when he was at school or when he was on his extended camping excursion with Hermione and sometimes Ron. He felt well rested as he was heading down to the Great Hall for breakfast. As he was crossing the entryway that led to the Great Hall he noticed Headmistress McGonagall was standing at the door and she had what he thought was a sour expression on her face. Harry was fairly sure he had not done anything to upset her. As he approached the doors she waved Harry to come with her.

Once she had pulled him aside to a side room, Harry noticed that her expression was actually one of being quite upset and he could have sworn that there were tired tear tracks on her face. "Mister Potter," she began with a hitch in her voice, "I needed to tell you some very unpleasant news, and I figured that I should tell you before you read about it in the morning edition of the Daily Prophet."

Harry was feeling distressed based on her tone alone. He could not fathom what would have er feeling so upset.

"There was a horrible accident last night, at the Burrow," she choked out, trying hard not to cry any more than she already had done this morning. "Apparently they must have had some candles lit in honour of Fred's memory, and Mrs. Weasley must have had some potion brewing, and there was a … a …" she could not continue as she started to cry once again.

"There was what?" asked Harry, extremely worried. "What happened?"

"There was an explosion, the entire Burrow went up in flames," she said, hiccuping, trying not to sob.

"The entire house? But who was home? Did anyone get out?" Harry was now fearing the worst.

"Apparently Bill was at Shell Cottage with Fleur, but Charlie and Percy and everyone else were at home," she stated, gathering her strength and her composure. "No Harry, no one survived, not Ron nor Ginny, not even Fred. They're all gone."

Harry could hardly believe what he was hearing. "But how can that be? That makes no sense whatsoever. Re you sure? Did anyone investigate what happened?" He was starting to feel angry.

"Yes, Harry, the Aurors have already investigated the scene," she said, her voice now softening to a whisper. "Kingsley, the minister, he was here already, very early this morning. He gave me the news personally. He told me that the Aurors already completed a thorough investigation. There was evidence of residual magic from the candles and the potion that she was brewing. There was absolutely no evidence of any malicious intent. I know what you must be thinking, and no Harry, there are no Death Eaters who are free who could have done such a thing."

Harry had tears streaming down his face as he tried to process what he had just learned. Then he looked up at the headmistress, "Hermione, has anyone spoken with Hermione? She would be devastated to learn of this. The last time she and Ron spoke they had a bit of a row, and I think they actually broke up. They didn't end on a good note," he mused, worry for his best friend now filling his mind.

"Hermione has not come down yet," noted Minerva. "I was assuming you would want to be present when she learned of the news."

Harry was surprised to hear that. After all, she was usually awake early and one of the first to show up for breakfast, whether it be to get as much studying done or to just get an early start on her day. Harry's eyes widened as a realisation came to him. She must have already heard the news. Whether it be from having already seen the Daily Prophet or from hearing the news from another student, Harry had to assume she already was aware of what happened. But she hadn't come to speak to him about it, so Harry presumed that she was s upset when she heard the news that she must have gone off to be alone.

Harry looked up at his Head of House, "She must have learned of the incident, and about all of them dying," Harry stated, sure of his conclusion. Now he just needed to figure out where she would have gone. "I need to go find her," he announced to Minerva, and then he left the room and headed out into the entry way, trying to deduce where she might be.

He quickly considered where she might go if she were upset. The library, that was always her go to place. But probably not when she was upset. Yes, she and Ron had a recent falling out, but she still cared about him. And she was close to Ginny, as well as all of the Weasley's. She may not have approved of Fred and George's antics during their years at school, but they were all good friends, and Fred losing his twin during the Battle for Hogwarts was difficult for everyone. But one thing so many of the Weasley's had in common was quidditch. Maybe that's where she went, thought Harry. He then ran out of the entry way and across the courtyard and down the hill towards the quidditch pitch. A minute later he slowed down to a walk as he approached the area where he had so many fond memories of playing seeker he was distressed to see that the stands and the pitch itself were in ruins. He paused as he realised that of course this area would have been overrun by the giants and others during the battle that raged, and he also understood that it would not be a terribly high priority of the school or for the Ministry of Magic to repair the pitch. His pace slowed as he took in the sight before him and he started to search the ruins for some sign of Hermione. He saw a figure crouched down near the goal posts on the far end of the field, or at least the broken posts that head previously been the goals. Harry walked across the scarred turf towards the form of a person hunched over, holding their knees. Harry hesitated a moment as he considered whether he should disturb her, but then he quickly decided that he needed to comfort her, as her best friend and also as they were the remaining two of the previously named Golden Trio of Gryffindor.

Silently he stepped up to her and gently laid a hand on her shoulder. She didn't start from the sudden touch of another, but slowly turned and looked up at Harry, her eyes red and puffy from the crying which she had been doing.

"Oh, Harry, I shouldn't have run off to be here without telling you what happened!" she exclaimed, her voice rough from her crying.

Harry reached out with his arms and pulled her up and into a hug. After a minute he responded to her, softly telling her not to worry. "That's fine, Professor McGonagall told me herself. Besides, there was nothing that either one of us could do. And you needed your time out here, alone."

"But how did you find me?" she asked, her voice now more of a whisper as she leaned away and looked him in the eyes.

"I've known you since first year, I know you almost as well as you know me," he said with a smile. "Some would have thought you would have run off to the library as that seems to be your favourite place at the school, but no, this isn't about you, its about the Weasley family. And not just Ron. And the Weasley's that we knew best, they all played quidditch, so where else would you go to mourn their loss?"

Hermione gave a weak grin and then she leaned in and gave Harry another tight hug. The two stood there in silence for a few minutes, just holding each other. After what seemed like an eternity to the two, Hermione lifted her head from off of Harry's shoulders and she looked him in the eyes. She studied the sparkling emerald colour that seemed so full of life. At the same time, Harry stared into her soft brown eyes, and felt drawn to them. The two friends leaned closer to each other, until their lips touched ever so slightly. After a few moments they both turned away, stepping apart.

"Oh, Merlin, I can't believe we did that," Hermione spurt out quickly, "I'm so sorry for that. I can't believe I did that!"

Harry was now red in his cheeks, and was quickly trying to search his emotions about what had just happened. "No, no, I'm sorry Hermione, I shouldn't have done that."

The two stood there, standing several feet apart, staring at each other. After a moment, Harry gave her an awkward smile, "Now what to do we do? What does this mean?"

Hermione bit her lip, and narrowed her eyes as she considered carefully what she was going to say in reply. "I don't know, Harry. I mean, I'm not sure it means anything. We're both upset, and we're both good friends and we're both probably struggling to figure out everything, what with the end of the war, with what happened to the Weasley's." She then looked away and stared at her shoes for a moment.

Harry then broke the ensuing silence, "Hermione, erm, please don't take this the wrong way, but I really don't know what came over me a moment ago. And I really don't fancy you that way. I mean, I think you're beautiful, and to be honest, back in fourth year I think I was attracted to you, but I didn't have the guts to ask you to the Yule Ball, and then when you showed up with Viktor, I was surprised that I really didn't feel jealous. I mean, you looked so gorgeous it took my breath away, but I guess things were so confusing that year, but you stood by my side. And it was then that I realised that I never want to lose you as my best friend. You've never abandoned me, never. You've always been there, and that means more to me than anything."

Hermione looked up at Harry, and she wiped away the remaining tears from her face and then she let out a slight laugh. "Oh, Harry, you'll always be my best friend. I think back in third year I started to have a crush on you, and then in fourth year I hoped and prayed that you would ask me to the Yule Ball, but that didn't happen. And as you said, Viktor asked me, and I guess after that I saw you more as a brother. I often wondered 'what if' but, I'm sorry Harry, I see you as my best friend, nothing more."

The two friends stood there, awkwardly facing each other in the middle of a ruined quidditch pitch. After a few moments, Harry started laughing.

Hermione frowned at her friends sudden change in demeanour. "You better not be making fun of me," she pouted.

"Of course not," Harry replied with more laughter, "I'm laughing at us, the two of us. I'm laughing at how foolish we are. Of course we are best friends and we always will be. Something like this will not tear us apart, but only make us stronger, bring us closer. We'll get through this, even without Ron. No disrespect meant towards him, he was my first and best mate after all, but at times he was kind of a lousy friend, always abandoning me, or us. Now he just found the best way to do that, and we can't even blame him."

Hermione's jaw dropped as she listened to Harry, who was still laughing as he spoke. Then she started to smile slightly and then a little giggle popped out. Finally she started to laugh as she responded to Harry's words, "You know, he always did say that hanging out with you would get him killed, and once again, he was wrong."

"He was never particularly useful in a wizards duel," added Harry who was still laughing.

"He wasn't even a good kisser," added Hermione who was also chuckling.

"Bloody hell, no matter how much he claimed he loved quidditch, he wasn't really that good at it, and his favourite team is the absolute worst," he said with mirth.

"He hated to study, and he hated to read, and the only thing he and I really had in common was being friends with you," Hermione added, still smiling.

Their laughter calmed down until they were once again standing there facing each other in the middle of the field.

After another awkward minute Harry had composed himself, then added, "But I'm sure going to miss him."

Hermione's smile changed to a slight frown, "Yeah, me too," she readily agreed.

The two friends had shared some tears, some laughs and even an unexpected kiss, but somehow they both felt their friendship was stronger than ever. Harry reached out and put his arm around Hermione. "Damn, I'm hungry. What say you about heading back in and getting something to eat. If they aren't serving anymore in the Great Hall, at least we can find our way to the kitchens."

* * *

LDW 3.3

* * *

 **Tuesday 12 May 1998**

Regis Barnes sat in the conference room waiting for M to arrive. His immediate supervisor had called him in to discuss the next steps for dealing with the magical threat. He was a little surprised when he had been told the previous week that he would now be reporting to M, as M had been overseeing the work of MI-6, and he had been working within MI-5. That was until the work he had been doing had been assigned to the recently reactivated MI-13. His years of research and collaboration with other members of MI-5 and Q division were finally paying off.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the door opening and M joining him in the small conference room.

"Do you have any detailed plans for your next steps?"

Barnes nodded slightly as he answered M's question. "We have worked out a priority for which targets need to be dealt with. Our first actions will commence shortly."

"Your first actions?"

M's gaze was piercing as she sought clarity from the lead agent on this issue.

"Our next actions? Our preliminary field trials were quite successful and the results were quite along what was expected," he said cooly.

"So the reports indicate," came an equally cold reply. "And you stand by your assessment that the systematic and methodical approach to removing the perceived magical threats is the correct way to go?"

"I will not turn squeamish with the tasks at hand," replied Barnes, "if that is what you are getting at."

M eyed the agent closely. "Are you sure that this is not just some sore of vendetta for you? That this is not just some means for exacting revenge for the injustices others have committed?"

"It is not just for me or my family, mum," stated Barnes, not backing down under her scrutiny. "I truly believe this is right and necessary. Yes, I have seen first hand what the pure-bloods are capable of. And I have seen the complacency on the part of those who just allowed the blood supremacists to have their way and subjugate any who they thought inferior. The crimes these families have committed against muggle born, half bloods and particularly the muggles themselves — those are the unacceptable behaviours that _must_ be stopped."

"Perhaps you are taking this all too personally, Regis," observed M.

"The Death Eaters and pure-bloods made it personal against every muggle born witch and wizard with their actions over the past several decades. I simply see an evil that must be stopped," explained Barnes. "Stopped at any cost."

"Even if it means you lose your humanity?" she asked, being surprisingly philosophical.

Barnes considered her question for a minute before stating flatly, "Perhaps it was not lost but taken from me. Be that as it may, our team is preparing for the next mission. And we will be able to fully test more of the special equipment from Q division."

"I thought you had reported that preliminary tests have already been successful," commented M.

"The wards we needed to overcome were actually not very powerful. A bit unusual considering one of the family members does curse breaking, but still they were mostly designed to prevent specific attacks. And the house, well, once the magic that held it together was disrupted, well, it all just sort of imploded," reported Barnes.

M nodded slightly acknowledging the given explanation. "So, when will the next phase be completed?"

"I expect that you will have our report within 72 hours, mum," stated Barnes.

"Then you best get to work, and I will need that report in less than 60 hours so I can present the information to Prescott and the Prime Minister," M added, making sure that Barnes understood the importance of the time frame. "So, you best be getting busy with your teams," she added, dismissing the wizard turned muggle government agent.

* * *

LDW 3.4

* * *

Hermione was trying to figure out who could help her with making arrangements to travel to Australia. She had very little in the way of muggle money, and she had no galleons to speak of in the wizarding world, and she knew she couldn't just walk into Gringotts after the events of the previous week. She had been wandering around the halls of the castle, trying to stay out of the way of the wizards and witches who were working on the repairs, feeling frustrated that she did not have the knowledge of magical spells that could be used to help with the construction. Going to the library was not a real option for her, as she had no classes to study for and she really couldn't concentrate as she was still upset with the loss of so many friends during the war and then the sudden tragedy that took away all of the Weasley family.

"Hermione, you really don't need to be so sad, the nargles are swarming around you worse than ever," came the musical tones of Luna's voice.

Hermione stopped suddenly as she was brought out of her aimless wandering and self absorbed ruminations. "Oh, I'm sorry, Luna. I didn't see you there."

Luna just smiled at Hermione. "No, you've been too busy fretting over things you have no control over."

Hermione considered the words of the Ravenclaw witch, "I may not have control over the events that have happened, but I still miss my friends, and I still feel bad for all the loss and all the pain."

Luna smiled at Hermione. "Yes, it is important to remember those who suffered and those we lost, but we must not forget what was achieved. We have been set free from oppression, we have been given a new chance."

"Of course I can't forget that, Luna, I worked hard with Harry to achieve this victory," she said as she considered her friend's words.

"But still you seem troubled," continued Luna.

"I need to figure out how to find my parents," added Hermione, deciding to admit her biggest concern to Luna, even if she never felt very close to the young witch.

"Were they lost in the war?" asked Luna.

"No, no," said Hermione, as she worried that her actions the previous summer may have been rash and overly protective. "I'm afraid I may have done something really foolish. I wanted to protect them, protect them from the war and the actions, or at least potential actions of the Death Eaters."

"What did you do, Hermione? The wrackspurts are spinning like crazy around you now," pointed out Luna.

"I obviated them, I made them forget who I am, who they were," explained Hermione as she tried not to cry. "I gave them new identities and sent them away to Australia. That way they would be safe from the effects of the war, and if something happened to me then they wouldn't have to bear the thought of losing me and the Death Eaters wouldn't be able to find them."

Luna tilted her head sideways as she stared at Hermione. "But something did happen to you, you fought a difficult battle, you survived being captured and even tortured. You are not the same young girl they sent off to Hogwarts when you were eleven. They have lost that person forever. You also took away the chance of mourning the loss of that girl when you wiped away their memories," stated Luna, whose tone was not accusatory or blaming Hermione, but simply stating everything as an accepted fact. Normally such a tone would bother Hermione but at this time she found it oddly comforting.

"But how do you know that your parents with their new identity without any knowledge of you would want to return to who they were before? Would they be angry that you took something away from them, gave them a new life, and then took that away from them once again? Would they rejoice in discovering they have an adult daughter who had removed all trace of her existence from their minds? You need to consider this from all sides," offered Luna.

"I know that, I knew all of that when I came up with my plan," asserted Hermione. Then she added tentatively, "Or at least I told myself that I understood all of that last summer."

Hermione sat herself on the edge of a large window along the hallway where they were standing as she contemplated what she should do next.

Luna sat next to her, and remained quiet as she simply smiled and looked around their surroundings. Hermione was comforted by the presence of the younger and decidedly odd witch, despite all of her previous frustrations with Luna in the past.

"It really is quite nice that so much of the castle survived the battle," commented Luna, her tone light and merry. "It would have been a shame if there was any more damage."

Hermione once again shook her head in confusion as she listened to Luna with her sudden and random comments about the castle. "But Luna, there was a lot of damage done, beautiful stone work, carefully crafted pillars and buttresses were destroyed, art work was ruined, people died here Luna. How can you be she happy about things?"

Luna smiled as she turned to look at Hermione. "You see, that is where your problem lies, it is with your perspective. We both are here in Hogwarts after the battle, and we both suffered in our own ways during the war this past year. But you seem to be focusing on the negatives. 'Look at what they did, consider the people who died, don't forget the damage that was done.' That is what you perceive. Or you could look at what stayed strong, who stayed true and survived, what is left for us to build upon. Some would say that is being optimistic. I would say it is being realistic. We cannot build on what is lost or who has died. To move forward we need to start with who and what we have."

Luna smiled sweetly then she hopped off of the window ledge and started to walk away, leaving a bewildered Hermione sitting alone. Hermione watched Luna skip away, barefoot and without worries about the future. Hermione simply tried to gather her thoughts and reconsider her perspective. After a few minutes she heard someone calling her name.

"Hermione, there you are," called out Harry, "I've been looking everywhere for you."

Hermione smiled at Harry and hopped onto the floor and greeted him with a hug and a smile. Harry was surprised by her demeanour, especially considering how hard they were taking the loss of the Weasley family on top of everything that happened at the end of the war.

"Hermione? Are you okay?" asked a confused Harry. "What happened?"

Hermione continued to look down the hallway where Luna had wandered off, "I'm fine Harry," she said with a smile. "Luna happened, and now I can see that things will really be all right."

Harry smiled as he felt confused by her change in demeanour, but the mention of Luna having some sort of influence on it all seemed to make everything seem like it really would all be just fine.

"So, Harry," started Hermione as she hooked her arm in Harry's and started to walk back down the hall where Harry had come from, "what do you think, should I go to Australia, or leave my parents there, to enjoy the life I created for them?"

Harry wondered where this question had actually come from, but smiled as they made there way towards the Great Hall, as it was approaching lunch time and he as definitely starting to feel hungry.

* * *

Lyrics © 1977, "Pulled Up", Talking Heads, Talking Heads '77, written by: Tina Weymouth, Chris Frantz & David Byrne


	4. Chapter 4 - Slippery People

LDW - 4

* * *

 **Slippery People**

 _"Put away that gun_

 _This part is simple_

 _Try to recognize_

 _What is in your mind_

 _God help us!_

 _Help us loose our minds_

 _These slippery people_

 _help us understand"_

* * *

LDW-4.1

* * *

 **Wednesday 13 May 1998**

Regis Barnes and Andrew Middleton were seated around a table in an old house on the edge of the small town. They had four men with them, and all six were dressed in dark black clothes with special goggles resting on the foreheads, over the black woollen hats they all were. There faces were marked with black paint to decrease the chances of any light from reflecting off their light coloured skin.

"All right men," stated Middleton, "this should go down without a hitch. The family will not be suspecting anything and most likely they will be shocked when their wards come crashing down around them. Mills, and Starks, you two will have your weapons readied. Anyone who comes running out of the manor house, you know what to do. Bushnell and Flanders, you two will come with us. Bushnell and Barnes will take the front entrance, while Flanders and I head around back."

Barnes then added to the instructions, "So, I'll launch the anti-ward pulse, and which one of you will then be erecting the anti-apparition wards?"

"That would be me, sir," replied Flanders. He tapped the large pocket on his vest holding the device which would automatically create the needed wards that would prevent anyone from escaping. "And Bushnell already dealt with the floo network. It should be scheduled to be shut down for a five minute period starting in three minutes from now."

"Good, good," acknowledged Barnes. He then stood up slowly and then backed away from the table. "Everyone to their positions. Any last questions?"

"We're absolutely certain that the youngest is here at the house?" asked Mills.

"Already confirmed by the spotter. The youngest, the daughter, came home immediately after the end of the battle on the second, the older brother managed to escape from the battle without being captured or identified as a Death Eater. Their mother is taking care of them here at the manor, while their father was apprehended at the end of the battle and is still being held at Azkaban."

"Then he will be dealt with later, when we take down that prison island," affirmed Middleton.

"Two minutes until the floo network crashes," Barnes reminded everyone. "We have an hour before it comes back up, but we should be done in less than ten minutes. Everyone, assume your positions."

The group then left the old farm house and made their way to the edge of the ridge that looked down upon the manor. Mills and Starks took their positions behind an old brick wall, about fifty yards apart. They had a view of both the front and the back of the house from where they were positioned. Barnes and Bushnell made their way to the left as they started down the slight slope of the hill, while Middleton and Flanders headed down towards their right. After about one hundred yards Barnes held up his hand, indicating for Bushnell to stop. Bushnell removed an anti-ward pulse bomb and readied it to throw into the magical wards protecting the nearby manor. Barnes counted down from five to one with his fingers held up where his team members could see. Once he lowered his final digit, Bushnell pressed the charge button and tossed the pulse bomb forward. About thirty feet away from them there was a sudden flash of blinding white light followed by a magical array of fireworks that was accompanied by a loud boom.

Barnes signalled with a wave of his hand for the group to start their approach. Bushnell and Flanders had their AR-15 rifles held up to their shoulders, with specially created anti-magic bullets loaded into the carbines. Barnes and Middleton had wands drawn and were ready to make their assault on the house below.

With the sound of the boom echoing off of the nearby hills, the front door opened and a tall man in a dark robe came running out, wand in hand. Before he even had a chance to cast a single spell, a shot rang out from Mills' .338 Lapua Magnum sniper rifle which was also loaded with special anti-magic bullets. A split second later, the wizard collapsed to the ground where he had been standing just a moment before.

The two teams moved quickly, and nearly simultaneously Barnes and Middleton blew open the front and back doors to the manor with bombarda spells, and this was followed by a spray of bullets being fired by Bushnell and Flanders. The wizards then entered the house first, with their well armed partner right behind them.

The people still inside the house had been startled by the boom, and were not sure what to make of the sound of gunfire, but they were too shocked to consider moving to a hiding space. In the main living room of the manor were a young woman, a middle aged woman and another young man. All three had wands in their hands, but they were looking towards the various entrances of the room they were standing in and they were unsure of what to do despite the sound of the doors to the house being blown open.

"What is happening?" cried out the older woman. "Who's attacking us?"

"The DMLE would never attack anyone like this, not so soon after the war," barked out the young man.

The younger woman cried out, "It's not our fault that Potter and his friends defeated You Know Who! Leave us alone!"

There was a slight crash as the lamps in the house all seemed to explode at the same time. The three magicals in the room were startled by a couple of red dots appearing on various points of the room, and then the dots seemed to focus on the older woman and on the young man. There was a sudden loud bang and the two people fell to the ground. The younger woman started to scream hysterically as she realised all too late that she was about to die.

"Stop this! Stop this! You can't do this! You have no right," she called out into the blackness that surrounded her.

A voice answered her. "You and your family and your people had no right to do the things you have been doing for years. The Death Eaters had no right to take the lives of innocents. The blood supremacists had no right to pass legislation that prevented half bloods and muggle borns from obtaining fair employment within the ministry. You all had no right to kill, or maim, or rape, or torture, but you all did it anyway. So don't cry to us about what is right." As the voice finished there was a sudden popping sound, and the young woman fell to the floor with a slight thud.

The glare of the beam of a flash light soon was searching the room, followed quickly by three more such beams.

"All right," called out Barnes, "check the rest of the house. We have three minutes to make sure there is no one else here, then we meet at the top of the ridge with Mills and Starks and we're out of here."

The others all grunted in agreement and they made their way through the rest of the rooms, searching for any presence of witches or wizards. Using the hominum revelio spell, Barnes and Middleton quickly determined that there was no one else in the manor.

As they were meeting up on the ridge, Middleton turned to Barnes, "Wouldn't a family like this probably have had house elves?"

Barnes tilted his head slightly as he briefly considered the question. "Yeah, probably. But we didn't see any of them there, did we."

"Why would that be?" asked Bushnell, who, just like the others, had been briefed about what to possibly expect in a wizarding manor house.

"Probably used their elf magic to get away once they realised there was nothing they could do," commented Barnes. Then after a moment's pause, he added, "Probably were too scared to react at first. And if they were treated like many such creatures by those pure-bloods, probably didn't care. They are all free from being bonded to that family, so they may have gone off to Hogwarts, the easiest place for a house elf to find work.

* * *

LDW-4.2

* * *

 **Friday 15 May 1998**

The students and staff at Hogwarts were startled to read the reports of what had happened the previous evening in a rural part of England. The Parkinson family had been wiped out, four members of the family, including their youngest child Pansy, who would have been finishing her seventh year at Hogwarts if the school was still in session. The only surviving member of the Parkinson family was her father who had been apprehended as a Death Eater taking part in the attack upon Hogwarts at the end of the magical war.

Professor McGonagall stood up to speak to the students and staff at the school at the end of breakfast. "It is clear that you all have heard or read the news of the tragic events of what happened yesterday at the Parkinson's manor. We all will mourn the loss of friends and family, for all of our students and graduates are our family. What happened yesterday is intolerable, and I can assure you that the DMLE is already hard at work on tracking down those responsible for the acts of murder and destruction. It is unclear at this time what may have motivated the attack. There are those who say it was a group of muggle vigilantes, but that is clearly not the case as magic was used in the attack and the manor's wards were destroyed. I do not say this to you all to alarm you or to cause panic, but to make you aware that there are those in our world who still do not understand the need for us to come together as a united community, so we can rebuild and begin to heal the wounds — both physical and emotional — after all of these events. And this occurring so soon after the tragedy that took the Weasley family from us only serves to show us how we need to work together and support each other. Obviously _all_ the fighting needs to stop because we _need_ to be strong. And through our strength as a community we can and will get through this."

Many students looked over to the Slytherin table to see if they could find any looks of guilt or smug expressions of someone who might know something but was hiding it. However, there were no such reactions from the few students who were still at the school, as many had already returned home to be with their families. Draco Malfoy sat alone on one end of the Slytherin table, his expression unreadable by anyone present.

Meanwhile, at the Ministry of Magic, there was serious concern. Interim Minister for Magic Kingsley Shacklebolt had called in the various department heads to discuss the events of the previous night. Gawain Robards had just been appointed the head of the DMLE the previous week and he was already beginning to question his wisdom in accepting the job. The Wizengamot had not yet elected a new Chief Wizard as a leader, but they had the appointed Undersecretary and the heads of several minor departments present.

"I am quite sure that you all have read the news, or heard of the news about what happened to the Parkinson family last night," began Kingsley. "While it is clear and even understandable that there are hard feelings on very side after our recent war, we cannot tolerate vigilantism as a means of dealing with perceived wrongs. Those who we believe may have done something illegal during the war need to be investigated properly, and if evidence suggests that they may be guilty then they will be charged and then prosecuted. We cannot allow anyone to start attacking people randomly or to take similar action based upon some whim or some perceived previous slight."

Gawain Robards was frowning the entire time that the minister was speaking. When he paused, Robards raised his hand to be recognised.

"What is it that you would like to say?" asked Shack.

"First of all, do you have any idea who actually carried out this attack? Second," continued the head of the DMLE, "what evidence do you have that this was in anyway related to some sort of retaliation?"

The head of the Department of Magical Commerce spoke up next, "Whoever is responsible for this action must be dealt with. But we need to make sure people are safe, that they feel safe, and that they are once again willing to perform their jobs and be willing to go to Diagon Alley or what ever place of business includes wizard type products. We need people willing to buy and sell goods so that we can reestablish our commerce and our independence. Without people working and participating actively in the economy the entire system will collapse. "

Another department head spoke up, "Then how do we stop that from happening?"

The head of Magical Commerce replied simply, "We do our job and let people see that the violence is behind us."

The Director of Magical Games and Sports then asked, "So what exactly was found there last night? There are rumours that it was a muggle based attack."

Robards took a deep breath and then looked around the room. "There was definite magic used in the attack and there was also evidence of muggle based weapons being used."

The Director for the Department of Magical Education spoke up next, voicing their confusion over that information. "But isn't that illegal ? To use muggle weapons?"

"Not necessarily, but it is generally looked down upon, and it is considered beneath most magical families," explained Robards.

"Whoever did the deed, it is something that we cannot tolerate," reiterated Kingsley.

The Director of the Department for Magical Transportation then asked, "So what do we do about it?"

"What we are supposed to do," stated Shacklebolt. "We will investigate the scene, and look for clues, and track down the culprits and then we will bring them to justice."

* * *

LDW-4.3

* * *

At the headquarters for MI-6, which now also housed MI-13, M was meeting with Barnes and Middleton just as she had planned. She had just received the update on the mission from the two and she was more than a little irritated.

"You used obvious signs of magic in combination with traditional weapons to take out this family," she stated as she finished reviewing their report once again and tossed it onto the table in front of her. "Do you realise how foolish that was to carry out that mission in that way?"

Barnes shrugged his shoulders. "They will not be able to track our magic, we are using wands that were custom made overseas. They won't be able to track the muggle weapons, as they are not at all familiar with them."

"But the interim Minister for Magic is no fool," observed M, "and he has already met with the Prime Minister and the First Secretary of State. They already made it clear that they view the Death Eaters as a threat. Even bringing up the problem and concerns with the Sacred Twenty-Eight."

"Then we simply deal with the problem," replied Barnes. "If and when he indicates to any one of the Prime Minister's cabinet that he has a concern, then we will simply meet with him to discuss his concerns. We can explain to him the advantages of keeping his nose out of the situation."

Middleton then added, "Or we simply deal with another family of the Sacred Twenty-Eight a little earlier than planned."

M glared at the two. "You do not have permission from anyone to directly attack a government leader at such a high level. It could be argued that such a move would be considered an act of war against the wizarding world."

"And systematically wiping out the Sacred Twenty-Eight is not?" wondered Middleton.

"Removing a terrorist threat is not an act of war," M said authoritatively. "Special operations plan S-28 is designed to protect lives of the citizens of the United Kingdom. If anything could be construed as an act of war, the previous attacks against muggles by the Death Eaters would easily qualify. Their activities were clandestine, the magical authorities even manipulated potential witnesses just to keep their existence secret. Such subterfuge and blatant disrespect for human life is intolerable. And the Crown will not tolerate such behaviour and we are the ones who are commissioned with the task of doing what is necessary, even when it is quite unpleasant, to maintain the peace and safety of the general public. Open war has not been declared between the Ministry of Magic and rest of the United Kingdom, but a battle to end the terrorist activities of the Death Eaters and their supporters and potential supporters has commenced. They fired the first shots many years ago. We have now taken up the fight and we intend to end it, on our terms, and not theirs."

Regis Barnes was startled by the sudden outburst from M. "Hey, I am on your side on this. I am the one who has been working with Q division on preparing for this confrontation, and I have lost as much as anyone at the hands of the Death Eaters."

M narrowed her eyes at the magical agent. "Be that as it may," she began, "you still need to follow protocol. They do not need any more information about what is going on than the minimal amount of evidence that cannot easily be removed from any situation." She paused a moment before following up with a final question, "You do have the next target arranged and the ancillary support lined up?"

Barnes looked to Middleton who nodded slightly in reply. Then he turned back to face M. "Everything should be set up. Marcus Flint is a recent graduate from Hogwarts. He fought with the Death Eaters and it is believed that he fled from the scene of the Battle for Hogwarts. There has been rumours of his hiding out somewhere near Knockturn Alley. Mostly he is looking to avoid being found by Aurors. It is presumed that he may not have much access to news within the magical world, but what he might hear within Knockturn Alley with the recent events involving the Parkinson Family, he may decide to run for it."

"But we already have eyes and ears in place at Knockturn Alley," added Middleton. "His family was essentially wiped out during that final battle, so he is the only one we have left."

"Make it quick and don't make too much of a mess," cautioned M. "This s unsavoury business, but it is necessary for the sake of our safety in the long run."

"Understood, mum," stated Barnes as he stood up to leave, and he was quickly followed by Middleton.

* * *

LDW-4.4

* * *

Harry Potter once again was grateful to meet with the interim Minister for Magic. While the meeting was purported to be about arranging the awards ceremony for the following week, Harry still had an agenda of his own, and he was hoping that he wasn't using up too many favours.

Filius Flitwick had accompanied Harry to the offices of the Ministry of Magic, as the headmistress did not like the idea of the students heading off on their own, even though classes were still canceled and Harry was considered of age since the previous summer. She just felt better about having one of the professors join him.

Upon arriving at the office of the Minister for Magic, Flitwick graciously agreed to spend his time in the waiting area and not infringe upon Harry's meeting, despite knowing Kingsley quite well, both from his time as a student and from their association with the Order of the Phoenix.

As Harry walked into the office, Kingsley promptly stood up from behind his desk to greet Harry with a firm and animated handshake.

"Before we begin, Minister," said Harry quickly to be sure he was able to address his own concerns, "I have an important request to make of you."

Kingsley let his right eye open wide at the change in demeanour and the assertiveness of the Boy Who Lived.

"Very well, my young friend," replied Kingsley, "how may I be of service to you?"

Harry took a deep breath and shifted slightly on his feet before looking Kingsley in the eye, hoping to read his feelings or thoughts. He was not able to really sense anything from the large man's impassive expression, so he decided to just lay his cards on the table.

"Well, you see, my problem is related to the events shortly before the Battle for Hogwarts," Harry began slowly. "You may have heard some of the details about what Hermione and Ron and I had to do so that I could defeat Voldemort."

"I have actually only heard rumours," said Kingsley as he sat back down behind his desk. "But I would love to hear from you what actually happened."

"Did you hear the story of the horcrux's?" asked Harry. "They were the method that Riddle used to make himself immortal. To make him mortal again, Professor Dumbledore charged us with finding the horcruxes, and yes that is plural, and destroying those foul things. Eventually we discovered that Bellatrix Lestrange had hidden one of the horcruxes in her vault at Gringotts. We needed to get our hands on it, so that we could finish destroying the soul pieces."

Kingsley had heard only rumours about what was needed to be done to bring down Voldemort, and he knew that Harry was on the run during the past year. As an Auror and working with unusual cases he had heard of horcruxes but had never thought that would be something which he would have to deal with. "Hold on a minute, Harry," he said as he tried to wrap his mind around what the young man was telling him, "you're saying that you and your friends had to find Voldemort's hidden horcruxes, that he made more than one of those vile things, and that you destroyed them all so that you could finally defeat him. Well, you definitely have earned an Order of Merlin First Class!"

Harry shook his head in frustration. "That's not the point, the problem is that Gringotts Bank is not exactly pleased with me, nor Hermione for that matter. We broke into the most secure bank in the world. We stole something from the Lestrange vault, and then we stole a dragon, or more like aided and abetted an ancient dragon in escaping, rode on its back as he made his escape, causing untold amounts of destruction in the process."

Kingsley was laughing a deep laugh as Harry finished his story.

"It isn't funny, Kingsley," complained an exasperated Harry. "I can't go back to the bank, or they'd probably grab me and have me killed or something worse. So I have no access to my money, or my family vaults."

Kingsley calmed himself down and then rubbed his face. "I'm sorry Harry, I just couldn't help myself. Thinking that a young man such as yourself could actually pull off such a feat, successfully stealing something from the goblins, and managing to escape, on one of their ancient dragons, no less. I will begin working on negotiating a peaceful resolution on your behalf. Someday, maybe a hundred years from now, the goblins will probably commemorate what you did in one of their songs."

Harry breathed a little easier knowing that the minister would help him out in this matter.

"I did have something more to say to you though, Harry," continued the Minister for Magic. "I am worried about certain activities that may be going on. I believe that there are people who are targeting certain members of the wizarding world, as a retaliation against attacks the Death Eaters had previously made against muggles."

Harry was shocked by the news that Kingsley had relayed to him. "Wait, who would know about that? Who would or even could do anything about that?"

Kingsley sat still, impassive and somber as he tired not to say anything too much, and worried that he may have said too much.

"The British muggle government? But why should I be worried? I haven't done anything to hurt anybody," observed Harry.

"Certain individuals, certain parties," continued Kingsley, trying to choose his words carefully, "view certain aspects of our world as a threat. And some of those support taking pre-emptive action against any and all who are deemed a threat."

Harry felt confused. "But I helped stop the threat, I'm the one who actually defeated Voldemort."

"You, Harry, are a teenager who is not even a legal adult yet in the eyes of many in the muggle world," explained Kingsley slowly, "and yet you managed to defeat one of the most powerful wizards in recent memory, if not of all time. Would someone who could pull off such a deed be considered a threat?"

Harry was shocked by the implications. "But why would I attack muggles? What would make them think I am a threat?"

"You are young, you are powerful," Kingsley continued. "Your power is something that they do not understand, and if they look into your past and discover how you were treated by your aunt and uncle and your cousin, they may come to the conclusion that you may want revenge for the way you were treated."

"But I'm not like that," protested Harry, "I wouldn't do that."

"They don't know that," stated Kingsley, "they don't know you."

Harry paled slightly at the thought that the muggle government would consider him a threat. "So, what do I do?"

"Be careful, Harry," stated Kingsley, "I may have said more to you than would make the muggle powers that be happy. But I felt you deserved to know."

Harry shook his head again, trying to understand the gravity of what was going on. Then he came to a realisation, "Are they the ones who are responsible for what happened to the Parkinson?"

Kingsley frowned, "Again, we are delving into information that I should not be speaking about, but we suspect they might be involved, but so far we have no proof."

Harry fell into the chair he was sitting in a little heavier, worried about what this would mean for him and for the rest of the magical world.

* * *

 **AN: Thanks for the reviews and comments. I will be reworking some of the next several chapters before they get posted.**

 **So, yeah, this was a bit of a shorter chapter...the next few chapters will each be over 6,000 words.**

* * *

Lyrics: © 1983, "Slippery People", Talking Heads, Speaking in Tongues, written by: Jerry Harrison, Tina Weymouth, Chris Frantz & David Byrne


	5. Chapter 5 - The Great Curve

LDW - 5

The Great Curve

 _"Sometimes the world has a load of questions_

 _Seems like the world knows nothing at all_

 _The world is near but it's out of reach_

 _Some people touch it...but they can't hold on._

 _She is moving to describe the world_

 _Night must fall now-darker, darker._

 _She has messages for everyone_

 _Night must fall now-darker, darker._

 _She is moving by remote control_

 _Night must fall now-darker, darker._

 _Hands that move her are invisible_

 _Night must fall now-darker, darker._

 _The world has a way of looking at people_

 _Sometimes it seems that the world is wrong_

 _She loves the world, and all the people in it_

 _She shakes 'em up when she start to walk."_

* * *

LDW-5.1

* * *

 **May 1975**

Regis Barnes was sitting at the bar in the crowded pub, slowly sipping at his ale. He was just finishing his first year at the University, and was still feeling anguished over how his life had changed. Only eight years prior he had learned that he was a wizard. And then came all of the excitement and the wonder with his first trip to Diagon Alley. Then two years into his schooling things began to change. He had quickly learned that certain individuals at Hogwarts had very rigid views towards those who they looked at as lesser types of wizards and witches. Being a muggle born, or as many in Slytherin House called him, a mud-blood, he learned that he was considered by many of those so called pure bloods to be a lesser form of magic user, only slightly better than the muggles themselves.

Regis Barnes had grown up and seen racism, bigotry directed those of different skin colour or ancestry. He had seen it directed at others, but he had never experienced himself until he was at school.

Then the war started. He was told he would be safe while he was at school, as the headmaster repeatedly claimed that Hogwarts was the most secure place in all of Britain. But that did him little good when his own family became targets of the Death Eaters and were mercilessly killed. As he contemplated the reaction of the Ministry of Magic to his pleas for help, for justice, only for the Ministry to essentially ignore him because he was a muggle born. He downed the ale quickly as he felt helpless to retaliate against those who had committed such acts of violence and cowardice.

He suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Reg, slow down there, mate," came the words of admonition from his fellow uni student and fellow graduate of Hogwarts, Andrew Middleton.

Regis raised an eyebrow. "Oh, and just why should I do that? Classes are over for this term."

Andrew Middleton smiled at his friend, "Because I haven't had my first yet!" He then ordered a beer for himself and told the bartender to bring another one for Regis.

Once the two glasses filled with the amber liquid with the white foam on top had arrived, Middleton spoke up once again. "By the way, I have someone you need to meet. In fact he should be joining us soon."

Regis raised an eyebrow, "What have you gotten us into, now?"

"Possibly a job, a real job," stated Middleton. "Fancy suit, came up to me right after class yesterday, spoke with me briefly, then met with me again earlier today. This bloke said he was with MI-6, or 5 or one of those things. Said they're looking for some new help, some help from people with certain skill sets. Skill sets that have not been used before by MI-5 or MI-6."

Barnes was feeling a little confused. He shook his head to clear it from the effects of the beer he had already consumed. "Our skill set? You mean…"

Andrew cut him off, "Quiet, mate, we're in a muggle pub. And no, I have no idea how MI-5 would know anything about us, our special skill set, but maybe we can learn some new skills, and use them to our advantage."

Barnes smiled slightly, "So, when do we meet with this bloke?"

* * *

LDW-5.2

* * *

 **May 1998**

Knockturn Alley was a dark place even during the day, but at night it seemed darker and drearier. Middleton was dressed in a dirty dark grey robe as he stuck to the shadows along the buildings in the alley. He had practices carrying himself with an aide of disgust towards others so that he would fit in with the various denizens of the notorious alleyway. One informant had given him the location of Marcus Flint, indicating that he was hiding out in a disreputable hostel known as the Shady Inn. Quite the appropriate name, thought Middleton as he looked at it from across the alley. Most of the windows were broken, and there was evidence of shoddy magical spells holding the place together. Some prostitutes made their way in and out of the lobby, sometimes with new customers holding onto their arms; while potion dealers trading in banned concoctions would occasionally enter the building, only to depart thirty minutes or so later. A large man who appeared to be part troll stood near the doorway, presumably as a bouncer. Middleton shuddered to think how there could possibly be a part troll, and decided that contemplating that idea was just altogether too disturbing.

He carefully reached into his bag and pulled out three small spheres. He anticipated that he would only need the first two to complete his mission. He subtly cast a notice me not charm on himself. Then he took the first sphere, pushed a button on one side and tossed it upon the roof. There was a sudden crack as the sphere hit the roof and disrupted the magical wards. The second sphere was already launched into the air and landed on the roof above the room that Marcus Flint was purported to be hiding in. The second sphere let off a soft glow momentarily and then there was a sudden crash as there was an explosion that erupted causing the roof to cave in, which was suddenly followed by a second blast.

People started screaming at the sudden burst of flames as the building started to smoke. Wizards seemed to come out of the shadows as they cast spells to put out the fire. In the confusion of people running up and down the alley Middleton made his way with some of those who were trying to get away from the chaos. He followed some of those who made their way to a pub near the entrance and took his turn stepping through the public floo connection. He then stepped back through the floo to another public location and repeated this action half a dozen times before separating himself to various locations before arriving near a bus station in Glasgow, then he boarded a muggle bus heading to the other side of the city. When he had finally made it to the bus terminal, he then made his way down some back streets before using a port key to travel back to his flat.

Middleton was sure that even if any one had tried to track him he had made enough changes in his destination and modes of travel that no one would have been able to keep up. As he laid back on his bed he assumed he would read in the morning paper if the attack was successful or not, and whether or not it appeared like someone had an accident with illegal potions.

The Saturday morning edition of the Daily Prophet included a short obituary on the former captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team, Marcus Flint, and how he had apparently died while mixing illegal potions in a room in a dive in Knockturn Alley. The Aurors who investigated the scene explained that he had apparently purchased illegal polyjuice potion and tried combining it with a strength potion, and the results were clearly quite volatile.

Meanwhile, Kingsley Shacklebolt paced in his office as he wondered if this simple accident was not just another incident being carried out by those working for MI-5 or MI-6 or whatever bloody number those muggles were using for their secret agents.

* * *

LDW-5.3

* * *

 **Monday 18 May 1998**

Harry Potter had received an owl from the ministry detailing a meeting being arranged at Gringotts in the presence of representatives from the Ministry of Magic, including the DMLE and representatives from the goblin nation, including at least one bank administrator. He was a little anxious about the meeting as he was not sure how the goblins would receive him. The Ministry of Magic's Director of Goblin Relations had met with him earlier that morning to review certain aspects of proper decorum and customs that need to be observed in dealing with the goblins.

Harry followed Cuthbert Mockridge, who had been recruited to return as the head of the Goblin Liaison Office after the war had ended. Sadly, Dirk Cresswell, who had taken over the position when Cuthbert had retired, had been murdered by Snatchers earlier this year, and the ministry had yet to find someone who was as fluent in gobbledegook and knowledgeable of their customs. Gawain Robards was unhappily accompanying them at the request of the Minister for Magic.

Once they entered the main lobby for the bank, they were immediately greeted by several armed goblin guards. There was a brief exchange in gobbledegook between Mockridge and the guards, and then Mockridge explained that they needed to follow the guards to a meeting room, and there they would wait for the arrival of the goblins who would be meeting with them.

The three were escorted to a room that was fairly stark in decoration, with only a plaque on the wall, however it was written on gobbledegook and Harry had no idea what it said. There was one goblin seated at a small desk in one corner of the room, and the wizards were shown to one side of a large table. They took their seats at the table and promptly began to wait. The goblin continued to sit at the small desk, seemingly oblivious to their arrival or their presence as he continued to work on writing on a roll of parchment. Harry turned to ask Cuthbert what was going on but he was quickly silenced by the newly appointed Goblin Liaison Officer.

After waiting for over forty-five minutes a door on the far side of the conference room began to open. Harry and Gawain went to stand but Cuthbert whispered for them to remain seated. "To stand at this point could be taken as a challenge to them," he explained quietly, "remaining seated, while considered rude in human terms, is a sign that you are viewing the newcomer as someone who is of higher stature than yourself and you should not be standing up to them."

Gawain scoffed quietly and Cuthbert glared at him. "The most important goal we have today," he continued in hushed tones, "is for all three of us to leave here today with our heads still attached to our bodies."

The goblin walked slowly over to the head of the table and took a seat. He stared at the people present and then grunted slightly before speaking. "Welcome, humans, I am Ragnok, current head goblin here at the London branch of Gringotts Wizarding Bank. It seems that we have several issues that must need be addressed."

The three men nodded in acknowledgement.

"We have to deal with the issue of a thief presenting with false identification, use of polyjuice to deceptively gain access to a vault, use of the imperius curse to falsely gain access to a vault, theft of a relic from a high security vault, damage to the contents of a high security vault, theft of high a level security device, and destruction of Gringotts' property."

Cuthbert cleared his throat as he prepared his response, "Based on the decree of 1572, as established in the treaty of Bogroot, my client pleads guilty by reason of necessity in wartime, and the ultimate goal to defend goblin lives."

Harry and Gawain had not expected that Cuthbert would plead guilty in response to the charges.

Ragnok, however, simply raised an eyebrow. The goblin in the corner started writing even more furiously as he flipped through other pages of parchment.

"Please explain yourself, Liaison," stated Ragnok, "the use of such a plea is quite unprecedented in addition to requiring the proof of saving goblin lives. Which could be argued as not having occurred as shortly after the accused departed from Gringotts, the one you called Voldemort arrived at Gringotts, and in his anger and displeasure with the missing artefact from the vault in question he proceeded to kill a dozen goblins in his rage."

Harry looked down at his hands which were folded in his lap and silently began to curse his situation, wondering just what kind of trouble this Mockridge was getting him into.

Mockridge then spoke up, "As per your own records, Voldemort and his Death Eaters killed quite a number of goblins during the first war in the 1970s. If he had not been defeated, his desire to gain control of the gold controlled by Gringotts Wizarding Bank would have led to countless deaths as he is no respecter of previously negotiated treaties."

Ragnok just stared at the group of humans who sat across from him for a moment. Then he looked directly at Harry and commanded, "I need you tell me the details of what happened on that day that you breeched our defences. Obviously we need to be sure that any potential security issues are fixed so this cannot ever happen again."

Harry turned and looked first to Mockridge and then to Robards, both of whom nodded for him to continue. "Well, it actually started a couple of months ago," Harry started to explain. "Hermione and Ron and I, well, we got captured by Snatchers. They brought us to the Malfoy Manor where we were then being held captive. One we were thrown into their dungeons we discovered the there were several other prisoners they had already captured, including Luna Lovegood who is a student a year behind me, Dean Thomas who is a classmate of mine, Garrick Ollivander, and surprisingly enough, a goblin named Griphook."

Ragnok raised an eyebrow at this latest revelation but remained quiet as he listened to Harry's story.

Harry noticed the slight reaction and then he continued, "We managed to escape with the help of a house elf whom I had previously helped release form his bondage to the Malfoy family, but that's another story from the end of my second year. So, we escaped, as I said, and we managed to flee to Shell Cottage and stayed with friends there."

Ragnok's eyes widened again, "Our employees William and Fleur Weasley, if I am not mistaken, live there."

"Yeah, exactly," Harry agreed. "So, they helped everyone out and even helped those who had been prisoners for months, including Griphook, get back to health. It was during that time that we figured out that Bellatrix Lestrange had something hidden in her vault that we would need to destroy so that I could defeat Voldemort."

Ragnok lifted his head slightly and then he interrupted Harry. "So, you are the one who was prophesied? How very interesting." He turned slightly and looked at the silent goblin who briefly paused in his writing on the parchment and looked up at Ragnok. He nodded silently before returning to his work and writing even faster. Then Ragnok turned back to Harry as he stated, "You may continue, Mister Potter."

Harry looked back and forth quickly between the two goblins before he started speaking again. "So, we were at Shell Cottage and we knew we had to break into the Lestrange Vault because we didn't think we could just walk up to the desk, explain that we needed to take something from someone else's vault, but it was really important so I could face Voldemort and we could make him mortal, so we figured that we would have to find a way to break into the vault. We were talking about this and Griphook offered to help us, for a price."

Ragnok's eyes narrowed at the latest pronouncement. Then he waved his hand slightly indicating for Harry to continue.

"So, yeah, Ragnok, he helped us get past the initial guards, then our disguises were ruined by the Thief's Downfall, and then he called the alarm on us when we got into the vault," explained Harry. "We had used some polyjuice potion to get ourselves past the guards, and we had managed to steal an old wand of Bellatrix Lestrange's to use as a means of identifying who we were. But we were surprised when Griphook betrayed us after we had made it that far, after we promised to return the Sword of Gryffindor to him once we were done using it."

Ragnok held up both of his hands. "Hold on, hold on, I need to make sure I understand the details of what you are saying here." Once again he turned to look at the other goblin and then barked something harshly in gobbledegook, and the words startled Mockridge. Then he turned back to Harry. "So, Mister Potter, you claim that Griphook offered to help you. And that he then demanded payment in the form of a magical goblin crafted sword, and then he went back on his word and betrayed you and tried to have you get captured."

Harry nodded as he acknowledged the various statements that Ragnok made.

"You say you were in possession of the Sword of Gryffindor? How did you manage to get a hold of such an artefact? That is most unusual," asserted Ragnok.

"Well, the first time I used the Sword of Gryffindor was when I fought the basilisk at the end of my second year, and Fawkes, Professor Dumbledore's phoenix, appeared in the Chamber of Secrets carrying the Sorting Hat, and inside the hat I found the Sword of Gryffindor. I grasped the sword and when I was sure I was going to die I stabbed the large snake inside the roof its mouth. It managed to bite me as one of its fangs was embedded in my arm after I stabbed it. And yes, I was dying from the basilisk venom and then I was saved by Fawkes when he cried and shed his tears into the wound on my arm," said Harry in a long winded explanation.

Robards shook his head, "Wait a minute, you claim to have defeated a basilisk at the age of twelve when you were merely a second year student? And that you stabbed it in its mouth? Why didn't you just lop the bloody things head off and be done with it?"

"The basilisk was over sixty feet long, so cutting its head off would have been quite difficult, even if I used the Sword of Gryffindor." Harry shook his head as he continued, "I still can't believe I survived that, even with Fawkes' help."

"So, you've had the Sword of Gryffindor ever since your second year at Hogwarts?" asked a stunned Ragnok.

"No, no, of course not," stated Harry. "I had to give it back to Dumbledore after Fawkes brought Ginny and I out of the chamber. It had been kept in the headmaster's office."

"So how did you manage to get the Sword of Gryffindor so that Griphook would even try to bargain for it?"

"We found it at the bottom of a pond several months back," explained Harry. "Snape, when he was the headmaster, he had a replica placed in Lestrange's vault. However, he arranged for us to find the real sword, because he knew that we could use it to destroy the, the, things."

Now Robards interrupted Harry. "Wait a minute, just hold on there young man! You expect us to believe that Snape, that no good lying Death Eater who allowed the Carrow twins to abuse our children at school this past year actually helped you? That's preposterous!"

Harry shrugged his shoulders, "I guess that just goes to show how good of a double agent he was all along. Before the first war ended he came to Dumbledore and swore to help him. When Voldemort, that is, Tom Riddle, when he came back at the end of my fourth year, Snape pretended to be working for the Dark Lord all along. He must have done a good job as he fooled even Voldemort himself. I think some of the other Death Eaters may have been suspicious, but he maintained a place in the Inner Circle because Voldemort found him useful."

"So, our suspicions were correct," commented Ragnok. When he noticed everyone looking at him he simply stated, "That Voldemort _was_ Tom Riddle all along, the last of the Gaunt family line."

"Yeah, basically," acknowledged Harry, "that's right. He was the son of a near squib and a muggle. Kind of absurd that he ended up leading a group that espoused blood purity."

Mockridge couldn't stop from laughing at that idea."If the Muggle Born Registration Committee had any idea that the one person they lauded above all others should have been registered, restricted and forced into a holding camp they would have been beside themselves."

"Enough about the murderer Voldemort, or properly, Riddle," asserted Ragnok, directing the conversation back on course, "tell me more about what happened once you obtained the Sword of Gryffindor. And please explain how this sword was able to destroy these dark artefacts of which you spoke."

Harry smiled slightly as he returned to telling the story of what had happened. "Well, having used the Sword of Gryffindor to kill the basilisk, it became imbued with the vile serpent's venom. This venom is powerful enough to destroy certain dark artefacts, very dark artefacts."

Ragnok rubbed his face slightly before he spoke again, "So, you were magically given the Sword of Gryffindor to defend yourself against a giant basilisk. This goblin made sword then became even more powerful as it absorbed the venom from said deadly snake. Then you managed to obtain the sword once again, and you used it to bargain with a goblin to help you break into a vault here at Gringotts, and then used it to destroy one or more dark artefacts. But then Griphook stole the sword from you."

"He took the sword and he sounded the alarm trying to have us captured," commented Harry. "That's when we got desperate, then the dragon broke free and we jumped on its back."

"So, you did not personally free the dragon, then?" questioned Ragnok.

"No, no, not at all," assured Harry. "We merely used the opportunity of the angry and nearly blind dragon as a means for our escape." After a pause, Harry then asked Ragnok a question. "By the way, what did happen to Griphook after he took the sword from us and sounded the alarm?"

Ragnok took a deep breath before he answered the question. "The traitor, for that is what he was the moment he agreed to help you break into the bank and try and steal something from one of the vaults, well, after the alarm had been sounded and you all made your escape he was brought up to the main offices for questioning. About that time, Voldemort, or more properly, Tom Riddle, showed up with several of his followers. He demanded answers about the Lestrange Vault. He did not wait for anyone to speak but pulled the information he was looking for out of the minds of the goblins who were present, including Griphook who somehow ended up where Riddle was. Riddle immediately killed the traitor. As he fell to the floor, dead, the Sword of Gryffindor was still in his hand. The Sword then disappeared from in front of our eyes."

The two men who were with Harry were shocked to hear this description, however, Harry nodded knowingly. "The Sword has a way of showing up when needed."

Ragnok could tell that there was more to the story, and he indicated that he wanted Harry to explain further. Harry continued, "When we had the final battle at Hogwarts, Riddle was almost to the point where he could be defeated, but he had no idea how close he was to being mortal again. The only soul anchor he had left was his snake, Nagini. When the snake was sent to attack Neville, who was willing to stand up against Riddle, the Sorting Hat appeared and once again, it held the Sword of Gryffindor. This time, it presented the sword to Neville, who then used the sword to kill Nagini. Once the aberration of a snake was destroyed, Riddle became mortal. That then led to my being able to defeat him."

Harry felt exhausted after reviewing so many details of the final battle and the events that led up to it.

Ragnok seemed to be considering the fantastic tale for a while before he commented on everything that Harry had just detailed out for them. He looked at Robards, "Has the Ministry of Magic determined that Harry Potter was indeed the one to defeat this Tom Riddle?"

Robards was surprised by having a question directed at him and he was not happy with being put on the spot. "I would think so," he began, stuttering slightly at first. "Well, yes, there is no question about that at this time. He is to be presented the Order of Merlin, First Class, the youngest person ever to receive such an award." He was gaining more confidence in his answer so he continued, "In fact there is no question about it, Harry Potter _is_ the one who defeated He Who Must Not Be Named."

Ragnok tilted his head slightly wondering why the wizards were still afraid to say the name of the now dead wizard, as once he had died all taboos associated with the name immediately ceased. Then he looked to Mockridge, "You, sir, had served more than adequately in the past when you were assigned to work with the goblins here at Gringotts Wizarding Bank. As you may have already deduced, we do still have a bit of a dilemma here which needs to be dealt with."

Mockridge coughed slightly at the questioning now being directed at him. "Excuse me, Ragnok, but what dilemma is it that you speak of?"

"A potential catastrophe of cataclysmic proportions that could make the previous goblin-wizard wars of ages past, those events which your people describe as goblin rebellions," explained Ragnok, with clear irritation in his voice, "those events would pale in comparison. Would you want such a blood bath on your hands?"

Mockridge was visibly shaking at the consideration of the not too subtle threat, "No, my good sir, we do not want such a blood bath, of course. But again, what would bring this about? Mr. Potter's actions? Haven't we just reviewed how he did this to save all of the magical society, including the goblins, from the wrath of Volde…of Riddle? And, and, and a goblin, may I remind you, a goblin aided and abetted Mister Potter!"

"That is the crux of the problem," calmly acknowledged Ragnok. "Consider the fall out of the general public learning of what Harry Potter did. That he was helped in what he did by a goblin. A goblin! The entire magical populace would find Gringotts Wizarding Bank to be unsafe. Our staff would be considered untrustworthy. Everyone would demand to remove all of their deposits from all of our vaults. The rush on the bank would do more than simply cripple the economy. We could not allow such an action to take place. And once witches and wizards could not remove what they have kept here, safely for over a millennia I might add, then there would be no alternative but for battle to ensue. This would be no simple skirmish like the one led by Arg the Unclean, no, not at all."

The three wizards were visibly disturbed by the image of an all out war between the goblins and the wizards in the wake of collapsing the economy. Finally Harry spoke up. "I never meant to threaten the economy or cause a problem with goblin-wizard relations, sir, I just wanted to put an end to Tom Riddle, once and for all."

There was silence around the table for a very uncomfortable five minutes. The only sound in the room being the repeated scratching of a pencil on the parchment made by the other goblin sitting at the table in the corner of the room. Harry turned and stared at the goblin, for the first time noticing that he was using a simple lead pencil, not a quill. Slowly Harry turned to face Ragnok, "Excuse me, sir, Mister Ragnok, but who is that goblin sitting in the corner and why is he using a pencil?"

Ragnok did not even turn his head to the side, but continue to look at he wizards sitting across from him. "That, is Sharpclaw, and he is working on the various attributable costs to the actions which you performed. He is busily calculating what sort of penalty or penalties may be applied for your various transgressions. However, he has had to review all of those calculations based on the new information that has been brought forward today." The wizards turned and looked at Sharpclaw who continued to make more calculations and was not interrupted despite the direct discussion of who he was and what he was doing.

"As I was saying, we have an issue, that must be dealt with," continued Ragnok. "Mister Potter here is guilty of breaking and entering into a high security vault, and doing so by the use of deception. However, it is noted that the Ministry of Magic is arguing that there are or were extenuating circumstances. Furthermore, Mister Potter is guilty of destruction of property here at Gringotts Wizarding Bank. Of note, he was aided and abetted, at least to a degree, by a goblin, an employee of the bank, and former teller who had previous encounters with Mister Potter many years ago." Ragnok looked at Harry closely as he added, "Yes, Mister Potter, we are well aware that Griphook was the goblin who brought you to your vault at your first visit here seven years ago."

Harry was surprised that the goblins took such careful records, but then as he considered that notion he realised he should never underestimate the goblins.

"And, it has been further reviewed that Mister Potter performed a great service to both the citizens under the purview of the Ministry of Magic as well as the Brotherhood of Goblins, in his acts that lead directly to the defeat and death of one Tom Marvolo Riddle. He is by virtue of right of conquest the new owner of the vaults that belonged to the Gaunt Family, The Riddle Family, Salazar Slytherin, The Lestrange Family and The Crouch Family. In addition to this, he is the owner of his own trust vault, which he would have full access to as he has passed the age of majority and he also has access to the Potter Family Vault, the Evans Family Vault and the Black Family vault."

Harry was shocked to hear this, as was Mockridge and Robards. But before he could comment, Ragnok continued to speak about the situation that they found themselves in. "So, Mister Potter is the owner of many vaults, and there are penalties which must be assessed and there is the issue of Griphook and the break in. As I mentioned, the consequences of the magical world learning of what happened involving these events could be catastrophic."

Robards was at a loss for words and was not sure how he should proceed even as the representative for the Ministry. Mockridge was caught completely off guard for the direction these proceedings had taken. Finally he came to a conclusion and decided to broach the topic of a solution. "Does the Brotherhood of Goblins have a suggested solution for this issue? Does the Gringotts Wizarding Bank have a recommendation for solving the problems at hand?"

Robards and Harry nodded in support of the goblin liaison's questions.

Ragnok leaned back slightly and crossed his arms across his chest. Then he turned to look at Sharpclaw. The previously silent goblin had already put down his pencil. "Well, what is the cost going to be?"

The three wizards waited anxiously to hear what the total would be for the damages.

Sharpclaw pushed his chair back, picked up the latest piece of parchment he had been writing on and brought it over to Ragnok. Ragnok perused it for a moment then took a deep breath before turning to address the wizards once again. "Sharpclaw's final calculation comes to a total of 237,479 galleons, 73 knuts, and 13 sickles. Plus, there is the matter of a fidelius charm that we have yet to negotiate."

"I don't have that kind of money," stated Harry, worrying about how he would manage to pay that amount of money. Although, the idea of paying a fine was much easier for him to consider compared to thoughts of working in goblin mines, or death or dismemberment or any manner of horrid punishment that he did not want to consider that the goblins could devise.

Ragnok looked up from the parchment with an obviously furrowed brow and his jaw open. "What ever do you mean, Mister Potter? No one asked you to pay anything."

Mockridge then spoke up, also confused about the current situation. "But what about the 230 something thousand galleons? And what about a fidelius charm?"

Ragnok placed the parchment carefully on the table in front of him. "It seems that you misunderstood. We have calculated the expenses involved with the damages to the bank and the vault. We have calculated the expenses related to fines levied against the family clan that Griphook came from. We have calculated the expenses related to the fines for breaking the rules here at Gringotts Wizarding Bank. We have calculated the expenses related to the fees being charged to all of those who have benefited from your actions as to the defeat of Tom Riddle and how that protected the accounts of all depositors, in addition to any handling fees of the transactions. Also, there is the confiscated funds from those whose vaults you have acquired, not counting the familial vaults of Potter, Black and Evans. The Slytherin vault cannot be emptied nor can it be combined with any of the other accounts, so those funds stay there, unless you personally remove them from the vault. As for the fidelity charm, goblins are barred from using wands, as per decree from the Ministry of Magic after what you call the goblin rebellion of 1312, therefor, it will need to be cast by a wizard."

"What fidelius charm is it that we are talking about?" questioned Robards, whose head was spinning a little as he tried to follow the goblin's commentary on the financial situation.

Ragnok grasped his forehead as though he had a severe headache. "The fidelius charm to deal with the knowledge of the events surrounding the break in by Mister Potter and his associates, and the betrayal against Gringotts by the traitor Griphook. Once someone casts the spell, if done correctly, then the knowledge of those deeds will be limited to those involved with the spell and we would request that I would be made the secret keeper of the information."

Cuthbert Mockridge blinked his eyes a few times and shook his head slightly as he tried to understand what just happened. "So, do I understand you correctly that as long as the Ministry agrees with the conditions of the fidelity charm to secure the knowledge about the events associated with May 1, then Mister Potter will receive the afore mentioned sum of moneys?"

"Exactly," stated Ragnok, "that has been the whole point of this meeting, has it not?" He waited a moment as he did not truly expect a reply. "So, if it would be okay with the Ministry of Magic," he continued, looking directly at Gawain Robards, "then we would like to arrange for the fidelity charm to be cast by the end of this week. If Minister Shacklebolt can arrange to be here and invite as few people as are absolutely necessary to retain the information, then we can beginning processing the transfer of funds to Mister Potter."

"Who do you expect to be at this meeting to cast this spell?" asked Robards.

"Everyone here today, the Minister for Magic, anyone directly involved with the incident in question who is not here at this time," answered Ragnok. "That should suffice."

The three wizards were all trying to process what had just happened, as it was completely unexpected. Cuthbert Mockridge finally found his voice, "Well, I will speak with Minister Shacklebolt and we will work to arrange a meeting, perhaps as early as Thursday of this week."

"It should be done before the planned ceremony for bestowing the Order of Merlin awards on Potter and Granger," agreed Robards, trying to make himself sound useful.

Ragnok picked up the parchment in front of him and started to roll it up. "Very well, we will plan on Thursday at 11 in the morning. The bank shall remained closed until then, as we have many preparations to get ready for this, in addition to the repairs that are still ongoing. The bank will reopen by 1 that afternoon."

With those words, Ragnok stood up and walked out of the room. He was quickly followed by Sharpclaw who gathered all of his parchments and then left without making a sound. A moment later, the door through which they had entered opened up and a goblin guard who appeared much less intimidating than when they had arrived stepped in to the room. He spoke with Cuthbert in gobbledegook and directed the wizards to follow him as he escorted them out of the bank.

As Harry stepped out of the bank with Robards and Mockridge, the goblins ushered everyone else out of the bank and promptly shut the doors. A minute later the main door opened briefly as a short goblin stepped out, hung a hastily made "closed" sign on the door and then he stepped back inside.

A young blonde witch, accompanied by a woman who looked strikingly similar but perhaps ten or so years older and a wizard dressed in fine robes were about to enter the bank. They stopped short as they saw the now posted sign proclaiming the bank was closed.

"What is the meaning of this?" demanded the tall wizard.

Robards stepped forward as he tried to explain to the clearly upset wizard as well as everyone else who was nearby and who had clearly noticed what the goblins had just done. "Lord Greengrass, do not be overly distressed. We just met with the head of the local branch. Due to some unfortunate occurrences during the war, there was some damage to the bank building. For the sake of safety they need to make repairs and will be working hard to accomplish that. We have just been assured by Ragnok, himself, that the bank will be reopened by Thursday at 1 in the afternoon."

"They had better be," declared Lord Greengrass loudly.

Harry Potter then realised that the young blonde who was with this Lord Greengrass must have been Daphne Greengrass, who at times was seen in the presence of Pansy Parkinson, and at other times seemed to be on her own or with only one or two others. Before Harry could say anything in form of greeting, the blonde young witch snapped at him, "Always having to be in the middle of things still, Potter. That's not surprising at all, is it." Then she turned and followed her parents who were already leaving the area of the bank.

* * *

LDW-5.4

* * *

M was seated at her small conference room, along with the Secretary for State of the Home Department, Jack Straw. They were reviewing various documents between them when M received a message over the intercom.

"Mum, your next guests have arrived," came the voice from the receptionist over the intercom.

"Send them right in," replied the head of MI-6 and MI-13.

Neither she nor Mister Straw stood as Regis Barnes and Andrew Middleton walked into the room, accompanied by Q.

"I believe everyone here knows everyone else," stated M, "so we can forgo the pleasantries of introductions and get down to business." Everyone muttered quick salutations and nodded in agreement and the three newcomers then sat down and joined M and Secretary Straw at the table.

"Mister Straw is looking forward to hear of your plan for this upcoming mission," began M, "and I assured him you can document what you will be doing to assure a successful outing."

Jack Straw did not mince his words when he spoke up next, "I am less concerned about what you have planned, but more about the reasoning behind this mission. From what I hear it will be a calculated and brutal strike. There will be no way to cover it up as an accident. The Ministry for Magic will be demanding recompense. We cannot risk public opinion in either our world or the magical world to be turned against us."

Regis Barnes nodded slightly as he opened a folder he brought with him and proceeded to hand out several packets of information. "These are the dossiers on the targets. Yes, they are already in the custody of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, but as you can see from the brief I already submitted, that should not necessarily be reassuring to any degree. These individuals, these members of the terrorist group known as Death Eaters, have been instrumental in the many attacks performed by magicals against the muggle world over the past thirty years or more. The Ministry of Magic has either not been able to prevent theses attacks or has not cared to try and prevent these attacks. Also, it has been documented over the past five years that keeping these individuals locked away on Azkaban Island is not guaranteed either. Since the Ministry for Magic has refused to deal with these murderers in any way to make sure that all of civilised society is safe, my proposal is that we take definitive action to assure our safety. That is, safety for everyone, magical and muggle."

Jack Straw leaned back in his chair as he looked at the folder in front of him. Then he turned to face M. "Do you really think that this dramatic action is necessitated?" He then pulled off his thin wire rimmed glasses and used them to point at the two wizards in the room. "If this all turns pear shaped, do you think these two will be the ones taking the fall? It will quickly be traced back to the PM. And he won't let it stick to him. It will fall back and land squarely on _your_ shoulders!"

M grimaced momentarily before resuming her thin smile. "I am well aware of the consequences of the proposed actions. And to be frank, the threat that these individuals have posed, repeatedly, over the past thirty or so years is real. The failure of the powers that be within the Ministry of Magic for controlling this kind of behaviour, for being a deterrent, for providing our people with protection, well it is quite astounding how miserably they have failed in their duties to their own people as well as our world. So, no, Secretary Straw, I am fully prepared to deal with the consequences." She pointed to another folder. "These detailed reports of the horrors that these individuals have committed give me plenty of reasons to carry out this planned mission."

"Against our own people?" questioned Straw.

M rolled her eyes at the question. "Our own people? These individuals do not even consider us people. They don't think of themselves as having anything to do with our world let alone be held accountable to decent society and our rules. Their behaviour is that of dangerous rabid animals and they quite simply need to be put down."

Straw listened to her and shrugged his shoulders, then he turned to face Barnes. "And the fallout from this operation would be what, sir?"

Barnes grimaced for a moment before he answered. "The attack would be taking place at the fabled magical prison, Azkaban. It is magically protected from muggles, from non magicals, so normally it could not be found. Before this recent wizard war, the island and prison was protected by evil magical beings known as dementors. They literally could and would suck the joy out of anyone. And then possibly leave them as a hollow husk of a person, if they sucked your soul out, which they could do. Now the prison is guarded by wizards and witches, and the precautions to prevent these magical terrorists from escaping there are simply just not adequate."

"And that concerns us how?" asked Straw.

"It concerns us because before we know it they can be back on the streets, our streets, causing mayhem, and who knows what exactly," stated Middleton, answering for Barnes.

Straw raised an eyebrow at Middleton inserting himself into the conversation. "So, Mister Middleton, what can you tell me about that? What do I need to know that isn't contained in all of these reports?" He waved his hand across the various folders and documents that were lying on the table.

Middleton shook slightly and then began to detail who the Death Eaters were. "These people, they felt they were entitled. Entitled to do whatever they wanted to whomever they wanted, unless they were of pure magical blood. And if someone was a pureblood magical and they supported the rights of half bloods or muggle born, or even worse, muggles, then those were labelled as blood traitors and they were treated just as badly. To become a Death Eater, one had to take the mark of their leader, the now dead and self proclaimed Lord Voldemort. But what no one wanted to talk about is what was required of someone to take the mark, the Dark Mark. His leaders had to prove their loyalty to him first by either murdering a muggle, or raping one, or using the imperius curse on a muggle to make them do something horrific to a family member."

Both M and Jack Straw felt ill at hearing Middleton state this out loud.

"So, you're basically telling me that these people are barbaric and act as terrorists or sociopaths," stated Straw. He took his glasses off and rubbed his eyes slightly, then placed his glasses back on his face and shook his head slightly. "It's still unpleasant business." Then he looked back at Barnes, "So, tell me, why is it that you two left your special world of magic and how exactly did you end up working for MI-6?"

"Actually, sir," stated Barnes, "I started working for MI-5 after being recruited out of University. I left the magical world behind and obtained further educational training. I had no reason to stay in the magical world, not after the way they treated me throughout my years at school there. The junior Death Eaters, the ones who followed their parents and their friends to become Death Eaters and take part in both wars, they harassed people like me, muggle borns. They wanted to make an example of me. I came home for Easter break at the end of my sixth year, only to find that the Death Eaters had found where my family lived. From the stench and the appearance, they must have done their dirty work at least a week before I arrived. The response from the DMLE when I tried to contact them was pitiful. They refused to investigate because they were 'just muggles'. I was told that I had not given them a compelling reason to follow up on this matter."

Straw rubbed his face with his hand as he tried to comprehend this last statement. Then he turned to face Q. "I suppose you have the appropriate equipment to support this planned excursion?"

"They should be more than adequately prepared for the planned mission," stated Q with confidence.

Straw then picked up the folder complete with the dossiers in front of him. "Fine, fine, I will share this information with the PM and assure him that we are ready to move on this. When is the strike planned?"

"The Ministry of Magic is offering a window of opportunity next week," added M, "we will have an update for you by midweek at the latest."

* * *

 **AN: Sorry for the delay. Wanted to add the some of the background information which is in the first section of this chapter...more background information will be coming...slowly...**

 **Thanks again for reading and for all the reviews.**

* * *

Lyrics: © 1980, "The Great Curve", Talking Heads, Remain In Light, written by: Jerry Harrison, Tina Weymouth, Chris Frantz, Brian Eno & David Byrne


	6. Chapter 6 - Warning Sign

LDW - 6

Warning Sign

 _"Warning sign, warning sign,_

 _Look at my hair, I like the design._

 _It's the truth, it's the truth._

 _Your glassy eyes and your open mouth_

 _Take it easy, take it easy,_

 _It's a natural thing and you have to relax,_

 _I've got money now, I've got money now._

 _C'mon baby, C'mon baby._

 _Warning sign, of things to come"_

* * *

 **May 1982**

Two men were sitting in a secluded section of a pub in downtown London. The corner of the pub was dark and the table which they were seated at was remarkably quiet on this busy evening. The invisible magical wards which they had erected surely had something to do with the seclusion they felt.

"So, it's been over six months, and the Death Eaters have all run hiding, claiming they were either imperiused or brain washed or something," commented Barnes.

His companion, Middleton, shook his head and frowned, "Not enough of them were rounded up and sent off to Azkaban."

"No, clearly not enough," complained Barnes. "Too many of the pure-bloods looking out for their own, if you ask me, no matter how horrific the individual's crimes may have been."

"So, what are we going to do about it, anyway? The Death Eaters are gone from public, their dark lord has been defeated, by a half blood infant, no less," observed Middleton. "Are they really going to come back from this?"

Barnes scoffed at the notion. "Of course they are going to come back from this. This is just a minor defeat. Voldemort, he was too powerful to have a baby boy stop him. This whole story is suspicious. And with the likes of Lucius Malfoy and others still on the loose, allowed to roam free by the others, the so called light sided families who bought into the whole rubbish of their being imperiused. But mark my words, Drew, this will all come back to haunt them. The Death Eaters are down, but they're not gone, they will return. And the pure-blood elite who didn't want to hurt their fellow wizards and witches will rue the day they let them all walk away."

Andrew Middleton sighed deeply. Then he looked pointedly at his friend, "So, your years of working for MI-5 have led you to be able to prognosticate what is going to happen in the magical world." He hesitated a moment before he added, "You really do believe they will be coming back, and they will be back at it again."

Barnes smiled and nodded, "Of course I believe that."

Middleton rubbed his chin before he then came to a realisation. "You have a plan for dealing with them already, don't you? You've been working on this for a while, I can tell from that look on your face."

"Of course I have," he stated, and then he pulled out a piece of paper. "This is my first draft of a report and recommendation for how to deal with the magical problem, the problem of the pure-bloods. While the wizarding world is supposedly at peace right now, it will not remain at peace. The muggle born and the muggles, they will all be targeted once again. It may be in a year, it may not be for five years, may not even for ten years, but they will be targeted. And we're only reasonably safe as we don't live in their world, but that doesn't mean we'll be safe."

Middleton glanced at the paper, then he looked at his friend. "Is this all about revenge for you?"

"Revenge? No, this is about justice, a justice that the magical world refuses to dispense," he said calmly.

"Then what are you going to do with this?" wondered Middleton.

"I'll edit it, and then I'll submit it to M later this month," stated Barnes. "Then we'll see where it goes."

* * *

LDW-6.1

* * *

 **Thursday 21 May 1998**

Hermione Granger was surprised at first by Harry's request to join him at the Gringotts Wizarding Bank this morning. But he had assured her that things would be all right if they proceeded with the plan. She was initially suspicious when Harry spoke of the use of the fidelius charm to protect information, but then she was also contacted by Kingsley Shacklebolt, the interim Minister for Magic, and he confirmed what Harry had said. Once she learned that this was being arranged by the goblins themselves, with the purpose of preventing the collapse of the wizarding economy due to the potential ramifications of their actions on the 1 of May then she readily agreed. She wasn't sure she followed all of the logic which the goblins employed to reach their conclusion, however she was still willing to participate, to maintain her own memory of the event and to support Harry.

The group met at the Ministry of Magic, Harry, Hermione, Gawain Robards, and Kingsley gathered in the minister's office. They were allowed a special floo connection directly into the bank, that was opened just for this meeting. They stepped into the lobby of the Gringotts bank, which was still closed since Monday morning. The group noticed that the lobby had been completely redesigned and had a more comfortable feel to it, despite the complete use of stone and marble to make all of the desks and entryways.

Ragnok was waiting for their arrival, standing in the lobby with two goblin guards, their large battle axes making it clear what exactly their role was, and two other goblins, one of whom Harry recognised as Sharpclaw from the meeting earlier in the week.

"Greetings everyone," stated Ragnok with a certain tone of superiority. "Welcome to the _new_ Gringotts Wizarding Bank."

"It looks wonderful," commented Hermione.

"Indeed it does," agreed Kingsley, "and I am a little surprised that your work included these repairs, or redesign."

Ragnok seemed to shrug slightly, "The events that occurred here included being invaded by Tom Riddle and his minions, and the death of a traitor to our brotherhood. We did not want this place to be a reminder of such hateful and horrific acts. It was an opportune time to make the needed adjustments, that is all, nothing more."

The unnamed goblin standing next to Sharpclaw then spoke up, "We don't have time for any more pleasantries, we have important business at hand. We should commence with the charm. The sooner this is done the sooner we can reopen the bank."

Ragnok smiled at the goblin. "Always keeping us on task, aren't you, assistant director Boris." Ragnok turned to the others, "His parents named him after a spider. _Don't ask_." Then he continued, "I do believe that we can carry out this little task here. You are prepared to cast the spell, Minister?"

Kingsley nodded, "Yes, however I find it unusual to be casting a fidelius charm on a memory or idea as opposed to a place. I did review with the head of the Unspeakables if there was anything particular that we needed to do to make sure it worked and he shared some recommendations. It should not be a problem to do this though. The wording needs to be quite explicit. The spell will allow me to make you, Ragnok, the secret keeper of the information. Everyone present as the spell is cast will automatically be allowed to retain their memories of the information, but no one can share the information other than Ragnok. He could write it down and allow someone else to read the information, if he so chose, but otherwise we cannot pass on the information, even under questioning with veritas serum or under the affect of the imperius curse."

"That is as expected," commented Boris.

"So, are we all ready to begin?" asked Ragnok.

There was agreement from everyone in the lobby, as the guards by this time had left the room. Kingsley then took a deep breath before he started with the intricate wand movements and the chanting in Latin to cast the spell. He had to be quite specific with his wording so as to be sure that the spell would protect the memories from being discovered, but only the memories regarding the break in and the acts of Hermione, Ron, Harry and Griphook during that day. After about five minutes of chanting, there came a flash of orange light from the tip of Kingsley's wand and the room was filled with what appeared to be sparks settling down on top of everyone.

"That's an unusual sensation," commented Harry, as he felt a tingling run through his head.

Hermione nodded in agreement, "But other than that, I don't feel any different."

Kingsley smiled, "You _shouldn't_ feel any different, until you try to speak about the event to anyone who is not here right now. Then you may find that you are unable to form the words to speak with the other individual."

Boris, the assistant director, then spoke up, "And that is as it should be. The purpose, as we already laid out, is to keep this information out of the public realm, for all the reasons that have previously been reviewed."

Everyone present nodded in agreement. Then Ragnok stepped forward and proclaimed that the bank would be ready to open shortly.

* * *

LDW-6.2

* * *

 **Monday 25 May 1998**

At the atrium at Ministry of Magic, there was a new fountain that had recently been installed, showing the different races similar to the one that had been there previously. There was a podium set up on top of a small platform with several chairs. In these seats were located Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Neville Longbottom and William Weasley. Bill was invited to accept the award for Ron posthumously after the tragic events that destroyed the Burrow and killed the majority of the Weasley family. Kingsley Shacklebolt was standing and making a presentation to the crowd that had gathered as he was presenting the Order of Merlin awards.

Kingsley was reviewing the contributions that these young people had done to help bring about the victory in the recent magical war. The witches and wizards present were listening closely as they heard the stories about much of what happened, of the perseverance, of the willingness to make sacrifices, of their putting themselves at risk all for the goal of stopping the evil of the regime that had taken over and was subjugating the magical population.

~~…~~

Meanwhile, far north of London, there was a ship sailing through the North Sea. The captain had been muttering to himself. "I really don't understand why we have this assault team here on board. There is nothing near here at all. None of our charts have ever indicated there is anything near here."

One of the men in dark clothes stepped forward with a pair of binoculars in his hand. The captain looked at the binoculars and noticed they seemed different from anything else he had seen before. "What's this?" he demanded.

"These," stated Barnes, "are specially adapted binoculars. Use these to look to the South."

The captain frowned as he picked up the binoculars and stepped to the front of his bridge. He then placed them to his eyes and turned to face south. Suddenly he dropped the binoculars, mouth ajar, and then put them back up to his eyes. "What the bloody hell is going on? Where the hell did that come from?"

"That, sir," explained Barnes, "is our _mystery_ destination. You do not need to worry about where the island came from. You now _know_ it is there. You know some men will be heading there. And hopefully we will be back here at your ship in less than two hours."

The captain stared at Barnes for a moment. "You guys are creepier than any MI-6 agents I have ever encountered."

"I'll take that as a complement," replied Barnes. "Now my team needs to get ready."

Barnes left the bridge and went to the back of the ship where the rest of the men were located. He then quickly reminded the group of a few simple rules. "When we get on the island, there is only one gate into the building complex. Middleton and I will take care of getting past the main entrance once Jackson uses the anti-magic gun to knock down their wards and protections. It is probable that any guards behind the entrance may become incapacitated, at least momentarily. Remember, anybody waving a wand is not to be shot with one of your guns. We'll be the ones to take them out. _They_ are not the targets. Pretty much any and all prisoners _are_ targets. If they are locked in a cell, blow open the door and take them out, or if you have a clear shot through a door or window, just take them out. There will be men _and_ women here. Do not be fooled into thinking they should be shown mercy. We could tell you stories that would make you ill about what _all_ of these people did, and we wouldn't even be telling you the worst of it. These people are here because of the crimes they committed against magic users — witches and wizards — any crimes which they committed against normal people, people who can't use magic — well those crimes have simply just been ignored. Essentially they are _all_ terrorists. They have been found guilty by their own government, but their government refuses to truly put an end to their actions. We are now that decisive end. Many of these people have even escaped from here in the past, some of them more than once, we are here to see that never happens again. "

With that he signalled the men to get into the two inflatable rafts. The rafts were then lowered into the ocean. Once they hit the water the outboard motors were started and the small boats began to bounce over the waves towards the island looming in the distance. All the men had special goggles on allowing them to see the magically hidden island. It also let them see the magical wards protecting the island and the prison building. They also were wearing special armour that was designed to absorb magic spells and disperse the energy. The men didn't ask many questions about their unusual gear, they were just told it was developed by Q division for their special missions, and they accepted it.

After a few minutes of riding over the rough waves, the island was less than 200 yards away. They cut the motors and Barnes and Middleton used magic to silently propel the rafts the rest of the way to shore. They were approaching the island from the North, which they knew would be the least defended side as the landing area and dock were located on the South side of the island. The rocky coast of the island made any attempt to land other than at the dock essentially impossible. Then the dock area itself had wards to detect if anyone had actually landed. Middleton and Barnes had previously debated about whether or not they should use anti-ward bombs, like they used at the Parkinson's manor or just breach those wards by landing and running towards the main entrance. Both options would essentially notify the guards that something was amiss as the fall of the wards due to the anti-magic bomb would be noticed as that would trigger an alarm and the breach of the wards would set off a different set of alarms.

They decided that there would be less of a problem by simply landing and running up towards the entrance, as they figured that the bringing down of the wards would be more alarming to the guards then someone just showing up out of the blue.

The rafts pulled up to the back side of the dock that was not normally used for landing the boats when prisoners were transferred or when any sort of visitor arrived. Quickly and quietly the assault team tied the rafts to the back of the dock, then they each pulled out rope ladders and threw them up from the boat and over the edge of the dock. Barnes indicated with his hand that they all should start climbing the ladders. In a matter of moments they team had all jumped onto the dock and started to sprint towards the entrance which was still about two hundred yards away.

Suddenly an alarm klaxon started to blare as they approached the main entrance. "Yes, those are magically reinforced doors," shouted out Barnes.

As he said that, the man to his left dropped to his knees, and quickly prepared a mortar. Then a magically enhanced shell was placed inside and launched at the gates. There was a loud boom that echoed over the island. Barnes called out, "Knock, knock, we're here!"

The team then began to run towards the large doors, Barnes and Middleton with wands drawn and the other team members with their modified AR-15 style rifles with magic piercing bullets. As they neared the doors, both Barnes and Middleton called out "bombarda maxima" and red jets of light blasted the doors into pieces. As they stepped over the rubble they saw three wizards who had been knocked back from the blast. A quick succession of stunners kept them immobilised. Using their special goggles, the men looked up and down the nearby hallways.

"All the wards have been disabled," called out one of the men from behind Barnes.

The group made their way into the now abandoned control room and quickly found a listing of the prisoners and which cells they were located in. "This will be like shooting fish in a barrel," commented Barnes as he cast a spell to make a duplicate of the list and then handed the original to Middleton.

"Team Alpha with me," called out Barnes as he made his way out of the control room, "Team Omega follow Middleton!" The group then split up as they were directed with Team Alpha heading towards the stairs, while Team Omega made their way down the corridor in front of them.

Team Alpha made their way up the stairs to the area of the prison that was considered the highest security. In the past, this was where there were more dementors, and they could easily move in and out of the old fortress, which also left the halls and cells very cold and filled with drafts. Now, without the dementors, the guards themselves had to patrol more frequently. They had been alerted that there was a problem with the wards at the entrance just before the magical wards in their own section collapsed. Fearing that there was some group that was trying to make a jail break, they had barricaded the main hall leading from the third floor up to the rest of the prison. Barnes noted the barricaded door had a hastily erected magical shield. He turned to the man at his left who pulled out a small spherical object, flicked a switch and lobbed it at the door. There was a bright yellow flash as it struck the door. The magical shield collapsed and they heard the sound of collapsing bodies behind the door. A large man to Barnes' right ran up to the door and kicked it in. Just beyond the door was the motionless bodies of four wizards. He quickly knelt down and checked pulses.

"They're alive," he barked out.

"Probably the only ones up here," replied Barnes, "which is good for us and it's safer for them." Then he signalled for the team to follow him.

As they headed down the fourth floor hall they came to a locked door that led to the cells beyond. Barnes nodded at a thin man who had his AR-15 at his shoulder. "Go ahead and shoot the lock, if it is magical, those bullets will take care of it anyway."

The man smiled, everyone else stepped back as he pulled the trigger and several rounds fired off. The locking mechanism looked more like Swiss cheese and the door slowly swung open.

Barnes then pulled out the list and reviewed it quickly. "So, we should have Rowle, Avery and Selwyn on this floor, the others will be on 5 or 6."

They made their way down the hall and passed several empty cells. The first locked cell was on their left and a man called out to them, "Leave us alone, you can't hurt us while we're here!"

Barnes stepped up to the metal grating that made the door and shook his head. "So, you're Selwyn? I thought I heard of you before. You don't seem as tough as you were back when I was a student."

Selwyn narrowed his eyes and walked half way across his cell. "I don't have any idea who you are, nor do I know why you're all covered in black dirt. Did one of your little explosions go off in your face?"

The sneer was evident in his voice, but Barnes ignored it. "Not surprised you have no idea who I really am." Then he turned to the thinner man beside him, "Starks, you may silence him."

Selwyn's eyes widened when he saw the man put a muggle weapon to his shoulder and then he heard a loud crack which echoed down the hall. Selwyn fell where he was standing, his eyes still wide in shock.

A voice started yelling out from two cells past Selwyn's. "What in Merlin's name is going on out there? What the bloody hell did you do to Selwyn?"

Barnes slowly walked up the hall and looked into the cell with the man who was yelling at them. Barnes greeted him with a smile. "Avery? Avery Senior? Is that you?" He continued to grin at the man behind the bars. "You know, I never even took the time to remember your name or that of your son. But he was just like you but with the title junior, wasn't he? You still have no idea who I am though, do you?"

Avery just stared at the man who was taunting him.

"Does 1972 ring a bell? You, and your Knights of Walpurgis decided to send a message to a young Ravenclaw student. Some muggle-born who irritated your son, Junior, because he did better in school than he did. Your son stated that no mud-blood should ever do as well as a pure-blood. And he made it clear that an example would be made of my family. October, that fall, the Knights of Walpurgis, soon to be known as Death Eaters, paid a little visit to a muggle neighbourhood outside of Crawley. Burned the place to the ground, after you murdered everyone inside. Including my little brother and my baby sister. But apparently the DMLE couldn't do anything about it, despite the threats your son made at the time and the taunting he and his sycophant Slytherin friends continued after the ordeal."

Avery's eyes widened, "Wait, you're Barnaby or Bartlett, or Basil, aren't you?"

"Barnes, Regis Barnes," stated the man.

"You and your muggle born scum are nothing! You're a disgrace to those with magic!" called out Avery.

"Funny hearing you say that," said Barnes with a slight laugh. "I'm the one who is standing here, and you're locked up in Azkaban, and your precious fake lord is dead, killed by a half blood teenager. So, who's laughing now? Oh, and these men with me, who came here and stormed into Azkaban, well, yes, they are _muggles_. They don't have a shred of magic in them."

Avery started to bluster and wave his arms wildly.

Barnes' smile grew larger, and then he added, "And what's even funnier, is that this muggle next to me is about to use a muggle weapon."

Avery stopped and stared as Starks once again raised his weapon. And another loud crack echoed in the halls and Avery collapsed to the floor.

They started to walk down the hall and came to the final cell and looked inside. At the far end of the room there was a man sitting on a broken chair, with what appeared to be a permanent scowl on his face.

"So, you must be Thorfin," stated Barnes.

Rowle continued to scowl as he snarled in a low voice, "I already know who you are, I heard what you said to Avery and to Selwyn. And don't expect me to beg for mercy from you, because you won't get anything from me."

"I don't expect anything from you," stated Barnes calmly, "well, nothing other than I expect you to die."

He waved his hand slightly and Starks once again lifted his weapon and pulled the trigger.

~~…~~

Down on the first floor, Team Omega made their way down the first hall and then down what was until recently a locked corridor. Andrew Middleton was flanked on either side by Bushnell and Flanders, and Scott was taking up the rear behind them. Middleton maintained a firm grip on his wand while the others had their weapons shouldered and safeties turned off. They were unsure of what to expect as they made their way through the hallway and approached a row of cells. They could hear some muttering coming from ahead as they passed the first few empty cells.

As they made progress down the narrow hall, Middleton called out the names that had been magically carved into a metal plate next to the locking mechanism for each cell door. Glancing to the right he saw the name Jerome Goyle, stated it softly and then Bushnell pointed his weapon and multiple shots rang out down the hall. Turning to his left, Middleton looked at the name plate outside the door and read aloud - Lawrence Crabbe. Flanders then lifted his gun, took a slow shadow breath and then there was the crack of his pulling the trigger.

They turned a corner and saw another hallway, and one of the cells had food and straw from a bedding strewn across the waved his arm, indicating for the others to follow him. As they neared the straw on the floor he espied another name plate and called out Bertrand Jugson, followed by the bang of Bushnell's weapon. A few cells up the hall Middleton pointed another name plate as he read it, "Walden Macnair" which was followed by the echoes of Flander's AR-15 firing a single round.

Middleton muttered to himself as they came to a stairway, "Well, that hasn't been too difficult so far."

~~…~~

Team Alpha had made their way up to the fifth floor. The first cell they came upon was clearly abandoned. Barnes paused as he looked inside, saw a small bed on one side of the room that looked as though no one had slept in it for several years. It appeared to have a collection of long grey matted dog hair in one corner. He raised an eyebrow at the sight, shrugged his shoulders and continued down the hall. Two cells passed this one they found a man lying on a brown mat in the corner of the dark room.

Barnes tilted his head slightly as he considered how to taunt this next man. "Theodore Nott, Senior," he began as the man in question lifted his head.

"Are you here to break us out?" came the hopeful voice followed by a rattling spasm of a cough.

"Break you out? Who do we look like? Robin Hood and his Merry Men?" scoffed Barnes. "Definitely not, Nott." Barnes laughed at his own bad pun.

"Don't worry, though, we will have plenty of time to find Teddy Junior after we're done here" he continued. "He might be at Hogwarts, and he might have returned home, we haven't taken the time to figure that out, yet."

Nott stood up with another spasm of coughing and glared at Barnes.

"Then who the hell are you?" demanded the older Nott.

"Just someone settling old scores for people who are no longer around to be able to do it themselves," he stated calmly, and his words were soon followed by a shot ringing out from Mills' rifle.

"You can't do this!" called out a voice from farther down the hall.

Barnes walked quickly to the cell that held the man who had objected to their actions. He looked in at someone he wasn't quite sure that he recognised. "And who the hell do you think you are to tell us what to do?"

The man stood up tall and proud, puffing out his chest arrogantly. "Alfred Mulciber," declared the man, "and I don't care who you are, but you cannot just come waltzing in here and killing us! We have rights, I'll have you know. Once the Wizengamot gets everything sorted out, we'll all be free and we'll be coming after you!"

Barnes put his hands on his hips and stared at the man who was blustering at him. He shook his head then he calmly explained the situation to Mulciber. "Now, listen, Alfred was it? Vainly waiting upon the Wizengamot to come and somehow save you is preposterous. Even if they were meeting now, no rule or edict they could ever pass would possibly have any chance of saving you. For one thing, they wouldn't have time to get here to save you. For another, we don't give a rat's ass about your Wizengamot. They refused to take action to avenge my family, so I'm taking this action now. Delayed retribution, perhaps, but your damned Wizengamot will have no affect on what I or my friends can and will do."

As he finished speaking he cast a bombarda spell at the man's head. The mess that was left behind on the far wall made the men standing with Barnes feel more than a little nauseated.

* * *

LDW-6.3

* * *

Bill Weasley had just finished saying a few words to the gathered audience after receiving his brother's award for the Order of Merlin, First Class and was returning to his seat. The interim Minister for Magic was about to stand up when an Auror came running up from the back and bent over and whispered in his ear. Kingsley's face went tight in shock, a serious and grim look washing over him. He turned and looked over to Gawain Robards who had just had another Auror whisper to him. The two men's eyes met and the minister nodded slightly to the head of the DMLE, who then whispered back to the Auror who was with him.

"Assemble a team, no, make that two teams, and head up to Azkaban immediately."

The Auror whispered back to Robards who seemed to almost growl, "I don't care, tell them to come in whether they're on a day off or not, we won't let anyone break out those prisoners. Not again, not on my watch!"

~~…~~

Team Omega had made their way to the second floor. The first cell that they came upon had a short woman in it. She immediately started croaking her protests to being imprisoned.

Middleton asked Flanders who he was speaking to in the cell.

"States here that she's Dolores Umbridge," replied Flanders.

"Umbridge? Never heard of any Umbridge," commented Middleton.

The short woman in the pink outfit was fuming. "Never heard of me? You must be dirty little mud-bloods, muggle-borne swine," she spat at the man in front of her, ignoring the obvious muggle weapon he held in his arms. "Why, I'm from the Selwyn family! You haven't heard the last of me! This is an outrage, and you'll pay for what you have done!"

"Lady, I don't care if you're related to the Queen of England," replied Flanders with a smirk, "but you're here in this nasty piece of work of a prison, and you just told me you're a Selwyn. That's a name I have heard of and a name that is on our list."

Umbridge started to smile, "Of course I'm on your list! If you're here to save me then open up the door and let me out!"

Flanders smiled a little broader, "No, you misunderstand me. We're not here to free anyone, only here to eliminate you, completely." With that he raised his gun and pulled the trigger.

"Pathetic," muttered Middleton as they made their way up the hall.

"What the bloody hell was that?" called out a voice from the other end of the hall.

"Looks like we found another one," proclaimed Bushnell. The agent dressed as a commando in black pants, shirt, and hat, just like his comrades, stepped up to the metal door where the next prisoner was being held. "Travers is it? Yeah, we expected to find you here."

Middleton stepped up and looked in at the man identified as Travers. He tilted his head slightly, "So, Travers, I do believe you were present when my friend Brenda McKinnon's family was cut down."

"So what if I was, there is no proof, and no one can do anything about it," boasted the man. "They were blood-traitors anyway, and they deserved what they got."

"I suppose the same goes for those muggle-borns whose families you wiped out as well," stated Middleton, his tone becoming more sinister. "Such as Middleton, I could have sworn some of your friends admitted you were involved."

"Again, I ask, so what? What is that to me?"

"I'm Andrew Middleton, and at the end of my sixth year a Hogwarts, you and your friends made me an orphan," stated the muggle born wizard turned agent for MI-5 and now MI-13. "You and your ilk tried to drive out muggle born witches and wizards, or simply kill us off. Why? Because you thought you were better than everyone else. Because you thought you had some magic given right to treat others like dirt under your shoes. Why? Merlin knows why, because I sure as bloody hell don't. But thats not my concern now. My concern now is making sure that you and your kind no longer have the opportunity to oppress anyone for any reason ever again."

Travers paled slightly at the pronouncement that this muggle born had made before him.

"You just don't get it, do you," stated Middleton. "You used to hide behind your ministry and your Wizengamot and your little rules and your club of like minded psychopaths threatening everyone you feared. Well, your bullying days are over. Your little club won't be saving you anymore. Your ministry and your Wizengamot, we don't care about them, we're taking this into our hands now, and we're ending your decades long reign of terror and mayhem."

"You'll never get away with this," protested Travers.

"Too late for you, we already have," sneered Middleton. He then turned to walk away as he quietly added, "Finish him."

Bushnell leered, "Gladly," before he pulled the trigger multiple times.

As the bullet riddled body of Travers collapsed in a pool of blood Bushnell added, "You made plenty of people suffer, and that was a little extra for our man, Middleton." He then spit through the bars at the corpse.

The group made their way down another hall after dealing with another locked door. "Nothing like spreading them all out," commented Flanders.

Middleton just nodded as he lead the group down the passageway. They came to another cell with a name on the sign and it read Evan Rosier. Middleton looked in and saw a man laying on the cot in the corner. He had short grey hair, and his hands seemed to be gnarled with arthritis. Flanders came and stood next to his team leader and peered into the cell.

"Huh, looks like that one's dead already," he said.

"Probably," agreed Middleton, "I don't see any chest wall movement, but might as well make sure he doesn't wake up if he's just sleeping soundly."

"Sure thing," replied Flanders as he once again fired a couple of rounds from his rifle.

Bushnell then called out to them, "One more cell that is occupied over here."

The group joined Bushnell as he stood outside of the cell with the former Unspeakable.

"Augustus Rookwood," stated Middleton with a feral smile, "how many of your fellow Unspeakables died because of your betrayal of them and the ministry because of the secrets you relayed to Voldemort? How many people working in the Department of Mysteries met untimely ends because of your actions? Oh, I already know why you betrayed them, because you saw yourself as better than them, because you believed the lies told you by a crazy man."

Rookwood rubbed his beard briefly and that spat at the feet of the man who was taunting him. "You speak of things which you do not know," he jeered back.

"Oh, I know plenty," replied Middleton. "Like that the crazy wizard you followed blindly was the spawn of a muggle and a near squib. Kind of ruins your doctrine of pure-blood wizards have stronger magic."

"Lies, you speak lies!" yelled Rookwood.

"Tom Marvolo Riddle," stated Middleton cooly, "that was the given name of your Lord Voldemort. Never heard of Riddle as part of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. But then again, I don't think Rookwood was part of that group either. Which tells me that your own family tree isn't as pure as it should have been, considering your ideals."

"You know nothing about me," snapped Rookwood.

"Haven't you been listening, I just listed a hell of a lot that I know about you and the megalomaniac who you served," stated Middleton. "But that means nothing as you're finished."

Rookwood furrowed his brow, not sure what Middleton was getting at, and then his eyes went wide as Bushnell lifted his rifle to his shoulder and fired.

~~…~~

Team Alpha made their way to the top floor of the prison. When they first arrived they were surprised to find two cells that were open to the outside due to the walls being blow apart. There was still some rubble left behind from whatever caused the walls there to collapse. Regis Barnes considered that this must have been from the massive breakout that Voldemort had orchestrated a couple of years previous. Initially he was surprised that the damage had not been prepared, but as he considered it further, he realised that either they did not have the time or the need to repair it for the ministry would have been dealing with the actions of the escaped Death Eaters or the ministry itself didn't care once it had come under Voldemort's control.

The team stared at the rubble for only a minute before they moved on down the hall. They came to a large door that was reinforced and most likely had magical locks that were removed when they attacked the prison's wards with their anti-magic bomb when they arrived. They heard murmuring coming from down the hall after Barnes opened the large door with a well placed blasting curse.

"Who's there?"

"Is someone here to break us out?"

"Quick, let us out before the guards return!"

A male and female voice echoed down the hall.

Then a third voice said sternly, "You will let us out if you know what is good for you!"

Barnes led his team down the hall and came to a point where there were two cells facing each other, one with a wizard and the other with a witch. The family resemblance was easy to see despite the dirt and scars on their faces. Barnes kept pacing down the hall as he called out to his men behind him. "These two must be Alecto and Amycus Carrow. I do believe they are twins. Deal with them. We'll find the remaining family members later."

"So, you will release us and bring us back to our family?" called out Alecto from her cell.

The team members followed Barnes and stopped in front of the cells. Then they aimed their assault rifles. Just before they pulled the triggers, Amycus called out, "Bloody muggles, this isn't how things were supposed to go down."

As the sounds of the automatic weapons dissipated Barnes approached the last cell at the end of the hall.

"Who are you and why are you here?" demanded the large man, who appeared to have once been quite robust, but his many years in prison had led to a more sallow complexion.

Barnes stood on the far side of the hall away from the gate to the man's cell. "So, you must be Rodolphus. I thought your brother was a bit thinner than you."

"You look only vaguely familiar," commented Lestrange, "perhaps I should know you from somewhere. Clearly you weren't in Slytherin, otherwise I would have known you right off, and you would never be associating yourself with those who would stoop so low as to use muggle weapons."

"Yeah, definitely Rodolphus," commented Barnes. "So, as far as we know, your brother, Rabastan, must have died in the midst of the battle at Hogwarts a few weeks ago. We definitely know that your wife didn't survive the fight. So, that leaves you as the last living Lestrange."

"Apparently you plan on changing that," observed Rodolphus who began slowly pacing in his cell, never taking his eyes off of Barnes.

Barnes felt the stare was more than a little eerie, as he could tell the wizard never took his eyes off of him, but he felt like he was looking through him, past him. Barnes chose to ignore the sensation and shrugged his shoulders. "Well, that is the basic idea. Now, don't feel too bad about a bunch of muggles coming up here to shoot you with 'muggle weapons.' It is just what they do."

"How noble, to use those things to attack an unarmed, defenceless man," snarled Rodolphus ignoring the men who came up behind Barnes.

Barnes laughed at the wizard in front of him. "Not too different from a powerful wizard like yourself using a wand and your knowledge of the dark arts as you attacked defenceless muggles in their homes."

Rodolphus actually paused in his walking. He narrowed his eyes as he bore his once blank stare to bare on Barnes. "That is completely different. They were merely dogs, fit for the slaughter."

Barnes rubbed his chin as he replied, "I guess that description is now more fitting for you. Goodbye, Lestrange."

With that Starks and Mills both opened fire on the wizard.

* * *

 **AN: Again I have added a little more background information at the beginning of this chapter...who needs a linear story** **anyway?**

 **Thanks for reading and reviewing...**

* * *

Lyrics: © 1978, "Warning Sign", Talking Heads, More Songs About Buildings and Food, written by: David Byrne


	7. Chapter 7 - Born Under Punches

LDW - 7

 **Born Under Punches (The Heat Goes On)**

 _ **"All I want is to breathe I'm too thin**_

 _ **Won't you breathe with me?**_

 _ **Find a little space, so we can move in-between In-Between it**_

 _ **And keep on step ahead, of yourself.**_

 _ **Don't you miss it, don't you miss it.**_

 _ **Some 'a you people just about missed it!**_

 _ **Last time to make plans!**_

 _ **Well I'm a tumbler...**_

 _ **I'm a Government Man."**_

* * *

LDW-7.1

* * *

" _Don't you miss it, don't you miss it._

 _Some 'a you people just about missed it!"_

Shacklebolt and Robards had regrouped at the main office for the DMLE. They were discussing what they needed to do while the assault teams were assembling.

"We need to know more about what is going on," demanded Robards. He then turned to one of the Aurors who was with him. "Bring me Malfoy, yes, Malfoy, he should be in the holding cells down stairs in the dungeon."

As one Auror was bringing Lucius Malfoy up to the conference room, the assault team of Aurors and Hit Wizards had assembled and was about to transport via specially designed port-keys to take them directly to the main room at the guard house on the island.

Malfoy was irritated with the rough handling he was receiving but he also knew there was little he could do about it other than vocally complain. He was forced into a seat at one end of the table and he was a little surprised to see the interim Minister for Magic seated opposite him.

"Having a little trouble in paradise?" he asked smugly, trying to hide that he had no idea what was going on and no way to talk himself out of any more trouble.

"Why don't _you_ tell us what is going on," commented Robards who was glaring at the pale man with nearly white hair.

"Perhaps it might help if you gave me a clue as to what we are talking about," commented Lucius, keeping an eye on Shacklebolt, hoping to discern some sort of clue as to what was really going on. "Did you misplace your little heroes? Did the Wizengamot decide to free everyone?"

"The attack on Azkaban," snapped Robards. "Who is behind it? Who was left from the Death Eaters, from Voldemort's followers to mount such an attack?"

Malfoy was clearly surprised by this comment. "An attack on Azkaban? Who would do that? The brat who lived already ended the Dark Lord. His loyal followers were mostly captured or killed, only a few managed to escape, from what I have discerned, and they all probably fled the country."

There was a silent staring contest between the two men. Then Lucius broke the silence as he turned to face Kingsley. "There really is an attack on that forsaken rock and you truly don't know who is behind this attack." He paused as he looked for some sort of reaction. "And you think that I would have known about this, even though you have kept me in the little dungeon with no contact from any outsiders? You really must be out of your league on this one."

Malfoy then did something he had not done in quite some time. He laughed. He laughed long and hard.

Robards took a step towards the former Death Eater as if to threaten him, but then the minister spoke up. "Hold off, Gawain, Malfoy obviously knows nothing. This is pointless."

~…~

At Azkaban Island the assault team arrived to find several stunned guards and evidence that all of the wards had failed. They all drew their wands and the team leader called out, "Be alert, we have to be careful, anyone or anything could be here."

They then moved out from the guardroom to find the entryway empty and the remains of the rubble from the main doors. They then divided into three groups, one initially checking the dock, one heading to the top floor, and the third starting with the middle levels.

Within ten minutes they had all regrouped, including bringing the now revived guards down to the main room. The senior guard was still feeling dazed when he then started asking the team leader, a hit wizard named Malone, what they found.

"So, did they all escape?"

Malone shook his head, "No one escaped. They're all dead. Every last prisoner, executed in their cells. By muggle weapons, or so it would appear. Except for one. Mulciber's head was blown off with a blasting spell, or that's what the magical residue seemed to indicate."

The senior guard ran his hand threw his hair. "Who in Merlin's name would want to go to such an extreme just to take these people out? They were already locked up for Morgana's sake."

* * *

LDW-7.2

* * *

" _Take a look at these hands._

 _The hand speaks. The hand of a government man."_

Teams Alpha and Omega had already departed in their inflatable boats and were almost ready to rendezvous with the navy ship that had dropped them off by the time the assault team of hit wizards and Aurors had arrived at Azkaban. Barnes and Middleton were both quite pleased that they took out all of their targets and really didn't have to put up too much of a sweat. They were comparing notes of who they had eliminated and who they would still have to track down after they had boarded the ship.

"I think M should be quite pleased with this report," stated Barnes confidently.

"If only we could see the reaction on the faces of those in the ministry when they find out what we just pulled off," agreed Middleton.

… ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Later that day, at about seven o'clock in the evening, Barnes and Middleton found themselves facing M back in London.

"Your report, gentlemen?"

Barnes slid the printed report across the table to his supervisor. "As you can see, we dealt with many of the threats who were already incarcerated, in addition to obtaining confirmation on several others as to whether or not they are still alive. We have confirmed that several families have been fully eliminated, including Avery, Travers, Selwyn, Rowle, Rosier, and Lestrange. We have also dealt with several members of the Carrow and Nott families, but they still have young relatives at large. Then we also obtained confirmation as to the death of a couple of prominent Death Eaters, specifically Gibbon and Dolohov."

M skimmed through the information that had just been presented to her then she looked sharp at Barnes. "And what of Yaxley, and this fellow Runcorn?

"Runcorn was not found either at the prison or among the bodies that were recovered at Hogwarts. Yaxley, well it seems that he apparently has survived and escaped as well. Rumour has it that he left England and fled to the mainland."

M looked at the list that was handed to her. Then she raised an eyebrow as she asked, "And what response from the Ministry of Magic after your little foray to the rock in the North Sea?"

Barnes' expression was unreadable as he did not betray any emotion as he considered his response. "We don't know yet, ma'am. A team arrived as we were leaving the dock, so they clearly have discovered what happened. I would suspect that the interim minister will know where to put the blame, but any other leaders may still have doubts."

M sighed very slightly, "And do you have any predictions on the response from the Ministry?"

"None at all, ma'am," replied Barnes. "I doubt they really have anything they can do about it, except send Shacklebolt to bluster before the PM and his cabinet. Their people, these Death Eaters, they started this war thirty or so years ago. We're just finally able to step up to the table and hold our own. We've evened the playing field and I'm sure that they won't like it, not one bit."

"I'm sure they won't," replied M through pursed lips. Then she scanned the list once more before looking at Barnes and Middleton, pointedly. "Get me an updated list on which families are eliminated and which families still need to be dealt with. And I don't want guess work, I want you to have evidence to back this up."

* * *

LDW-7.3

* * *

" _I'm not a drowning man!_

 _And I'm not a burning building! (I'm a tumbler!)_

 _Drowning cannot hurt a man!_

 _Fire cannot hurt a man. (Not the Government Man.)"_

 **Monday Evening, 25 May 1998**

 _Ministry of Magic, conference room on Level 1_

Kingsley Shacklebolt was sitting in the large conference room down the hall from his office. He was waiting on Gawain Robards to show up to deliver his final report. The other department heads were already present as well as the undersecretary. They had all heard partial reports of the events at Azkaban, and they were needing to review what happened and come up with an acton plan as quickly as possible.

Gawain arrived with one of the Hit Wizards who helped lead the assault team. The hit wizard, James Bennet, took a seat as Robards moved to the end of the table facing Shacklebolt.

"I'm sure you have all been briefed at least to a small degree about the events of earlier this afternoon," he began. "Bennett, here, just returned from St. Mungo's, and all of the guards are doing fine. What we do know is that at about 11:10 this morning, as the minister was presenting the awards to the young people who helped us with the victory over He Who Must Not Be Named, an attack occurred at Azkaban Prison. It appears that the individuals arrived by boat, and left the same way. Upon arrival they used some sort of device that managed to bring down all of the magical wards on the island. They then proceeded to storm the prison, destroying the main entrance doors as they did so. All of the guards were subdued, apparently by overpowered stunners. There was evidence that several of the guards had their magic temporarily drained, exactly how this happened is not clear."

There was murmuring among those who were present upon hearing this, but Kingsley quickly silenced them. "Please, let Robards finish his report," he stated calmly.

Once the room was quieted, Robards continued. "The individuals who breached the prison methodically searched the entire prison. Essentially the only prisoners were Death Eaters captured after the Battle at Hogwarts. They were separated into individual cells, only a few people on each level. It is assumed that the perpetrators of the attack split at least into two groups as they went through all of the levels and they systematically killed all of the prisoners. Only the guards survived. It appears that muggle assault weapons, automatic or semi-automatic rifles, were used to carry out this crime. Well, except in one case, there was one prisoner who was killed by a blasting hex directed at his head."

"Who could have done this?" called out one of the department heads.

"Why did they do this?" wondered another.

"What in Merlin's name are you doing about this?" demanded a third.

"Was it their fellow comrades in arms who escaped, come to finish them off?" asked another.

"That seems highly unlikely," replied Shacklebolt, drawing the attention away from the head of the DMLE. "We already spoke with Lucius Malfoy who was surprised to hear about such an attack, and besides, none of those who are at large and who had been openly supporting the blood-purist movement that had taken over the ministry would have ever considered using muggle based weapons."

Then the director of muggle relations, Dwight Morrison, cleared his throat and spoke soberly, "There seems to be only one conclusion. This was the action of muggles. And now it seems that muggles can find our magically hidden places, and they can take down magical wards, and they can, and will, attack magicals."

A woman called out, "Oh Merlin! The witch hunts are starting again! Maybe the Death Eaters were right!"

"Calm down, Marjorie," scolded Kingsley. "This was no simple witch hunt. This was a decisive military style action. The supposed innocents, the guards, were incapacitated but they were left unharmed. Whoever carried this out had an objective, and it seems that they met their objective."

"Why would the muggles attack prisoners?" asked Marjorie, a little more calmly.

"What did we, the wizards and witches here in Great Britain, do to protect innocent muggles from the wayward attacks of Death Eaters who look at muggles as creatures that need no respect and are worthless so they were killing them off almost as sport," explained Kingsley. "The British government ultimately felt threatened and when they reviewed what knowledge they had about what happened, they viewed the Death Eaters as a significant threat, a terrorist organisation."

"This will have to end, we can't allow them to keep attacking our people," growled one of the department heads.

"Obviously," agreed Kingsley. "So it would seem that our next step would be to contact the Prime Minister's office and discuss this situation, and state our grievances and our concerns."

As everyone nodded in agreement, Kingsley then adjourned the meeting with plans to contact the muggle government.

* * *

LDW-7.4

* * *

" _Take a look at these hands. You don't have to mention it._

 _No thanks. I'm a Government Man."_

 **Tuesday 26 May 1998**

Regis Barnes was meeting with M as they discussed the next steps. "Our research has determined that several families have already been eliminated," explained Barnes. "The Crouch family was already ended when the former minister, Fudge, had Barty Junior kissed, and his father had died earlier that year. They were the last of their family line. The Gaunt family ended with the defeat of Tom Marvolo Riddle, otherwise known as Voldemort. The Weasley family will be ended shortly, Middleton is with a team working on that now."

"Is it wise to move so quickly? After all, you did just complete the mission against Azkaban," questioned M.

"I'm sure they are preparing a response to Azkaban as we speak," replied Barnes. "Probably working on arranging a meeting with Tony Blair to ask us to stop the attacks."

"As I understand, their Minister for Magic is meeting with Mister Blair this afternoon," acknowledged M.

Barnes smiled slightly, "Then it is a good thing that Middleton's mission should be completed by then. But regardless of what happens when Shacklebolt meets with the PM, we will need to continue these activities. The remaining families are still dangerous. Special ops S-28 needs to be seen to completion."

M perused the folder in front of her. "That leaves 17 families left to deal with. And your notes mention that this Harry Potter, who is related to the Blacks, is dangerous." She looked up at Barnes, "And just how dangerous is this seventeen year old young man?"

"Harry Potter somehow defeated Tom Riddle, the one known as the Dark Lord Voldemort, when he was simply an infant," explained Regis, "although exactly how he did that is not known. Then he faced off with him in various ways as a student on multiple occasions, and then he ultimately defeated him once and for all in a duel earlier this month. Such a wizard, regardless of his age, is not someone to be taken lightly. If he feels threatened or feels that his friends are threatened, he can be quite the dangerous individual."

M closed the folder in front of her and leaned back inter chair. "So, does that make him the highest priority target?"

Regis frowned slightly as he considered the question before responding. "The reaction among all those in the magical world to our eventually taking out their hero will be dramatic, to put it mildly. They will not take to such an action very lightly, and they may even be willing to revolt, despite our advances in dealing with magic. However, I suppose any sort of reaction could be avoided if whatever befell the young man appeared to be truly an accident."

M closed her eyes momentarily and sighed. Then she looked back at Barnes before adding, "We will have to hold off on some of this until we have further direction from the PM or the Secretary of State for the Home Department."

* * *

LDW-7.5

* * *

" _Find a little space so we move in-between_

 _And keep one step ahead of yourself."_

 **May 1998**

The room was dark, cold and quiet. The young man sat still on his bed, staring at the grey ceiling above him. He wondered how it had all come to this. He played through his mind the events of the past few years, not just the past few weeks. He was confident that his family was doing the right thing, working in what ever way possible to assure greatness for the magical world. His family deserved to be at the forefront of their society, or so he had always been taught since he was young. But now his family had next to nothing. His father was in a holding cell at the Ministry of Magic, which means that he was still alive, as everyone knew that all those who were imprisoned at Azkaban Island all were killed, murdered in their cells, defenceless against their mysterious attackers. His mother was being watched closely by the DMLE, as was he himself. He looked back upon the decisions that he made in his life. Almost two years ago he decided to follow his father's lead and he received the Dark Mark. Although, by that time, he was more afraid than proud, but he had to keep up appearances to his class mates, the children of other Death Eaters. And he also knew that he had to take the mission assigned to him by the Dark Lord or he and his whole family would have been wiped out by the maniacal leader. Once Voldemort had moved into their house, this house, it became clear that he was unstable. He was focused on Harry Potter, someone who he always considered an inadequate wizard at best, a rude git who refused his offer of friendship when they were first years, and worst of all, the one who got away with breaking all the rules and actually came out on top at the end of the war.

He thought about his indecision, his reluctance to actually take the life of Dumbledore when he had the chance. He knew that all Dumbledore had done was oppose the rise of the dark families. He had not gone out of his way to attack anyone, but he had gone out of his way to protect not just Potter, but even the children of Death Eaters. In that moment on top of the Astronomy Tower one year ago, he doubted himself and his heritage. If he couldn't do one simple act to save his family, he wondered what good was he at all. Then he realised during the following year that he could be more than just a cowardly young man following orders from others, however, he was well aware that as a 16 or 17 year old wizard, he would not survive long in this world on his own. He also knew that he couldn't continue to support everything that his father had been teaching him, but he saw little to do but to follow along, and wait for the opportunity to present itself where he could make a difference.

That opportunity arose not too long ago when he was put on the spot to identify Harry Potter. Of course he knew it was Potter, the stinging hex to the face making it all swell up did not mask that much of him. But he considered that he knew Potter had survived an encounter with Voldemort as an infant; that Potter had survived an encounter with Voldemort when his shade had possessed Professor Quirrel, that Potter had survived an encounter with a basilisk; that Potter survived the Triwizard Tournament and even survived a duel with Voldemort in front of his father and the other assembled Death Eaters; that Potter once again survived an encounter with his father and his aunt and then again survived an attempt by Voldemort to possess him. Then Potter went on the run over this past year. He survived everything that was thrown at him. Seeing Potter's disfigured face at that moment showed Draco that Potter was going to survive everything, and he better not stand in his way or he would end up regretting it. So he took what was for him at that moment a bold stand and refused to confirm to his psychotic aunt that it was indeed Harry Potter that had been captured. It may not have been much, but it was something. It was not long after that when he was back at school and the war came to Hogwarts. Harry Potter once again showed up. But Draco was being flanked by his goons who had grown intolerable as they gained power on their own as they excelled on torturing their school mates. Which lead to their confronting Potter and his friends at the Room of Requirement. Then Crabbe, always the mentally challenged buffoon, cast the Fiendfyre curse and lost control of it, immolating himself and the contents of the room; and of course, Potter, always bloody Potter, was the one who actually saved Draco's life. He briefly wondered if he owed him a life debt. The thought nauseated him. The world, their world, the magical world all changed forever shortly after that as Potter continued his march into history when he actually defeated and killed Voldemort.

Draco sat in the dark wondering just what was to become of him. Then there was a sound that disturbed him from his solitude. A voice calling out to him. He closed his eyes tight before forcing himself out of his bed and heading out to respond to his mother. He went down stairs to the kitchen area where dinner was now prepared. He walked through the halls and shook his head as most of the grandeur was long gone. Previous items that had lined the hallways and the rooms had been sold at Voldemort's insistence to pay for their war. Others had been confiscated by the DMLE after the war ended. At least they still had a couple of house elves to prepare meals for them and to keep what was left in the house clean.

He sat down across from his mother and internally he sighed, for even her once regal beauty was sullied by dark circles under her eyes, her hair was appearing drab despite the spells that she had used. Draco understood that their place in society would never be the same, and the entire ordeal had taken its toll on his mother. He wondered silently whether it was the loss of the fortune or the disgrace of being associated with Voldemort or the complete and utter failure of the pureblood supremacy movement that made her feel that way. Or maybe she was just tired of all of it.

"Mother," he said by way of greeting as he joined her at the table and the food appeared before him.

"You have been hiding yourself away, Draco," admonished his mother, resuming her typical aristocratic tone.

"So much has happened, you know that," replied Draco as he began to poke at his food with his fork. "Our lives have changed for ever, our world has changed around us," he continued, "it causes one to take stock of everything. Everything that father taught me seems to be a lie, everything the Malfoy name stood for is either destroyed, tarnished or just proven to be false." He paused for a moment before adding, "Which causes me to wonder, just where do we, where to I, fit in to this world? What will become of the family, the Malfoy honour, our heritage? Do we as a society blindly follow the light, follow the likes of Potter and the half bloods and muggle born?"

"You've become quite philosophical hiding away in your room," observed Narcissa.

"I lived in fear of either disappointing my father or of being punished by him for many years," stated Draco, with little emotion in his voice. "I then learned to fear your sister and the Dark Lord that she and father served. I saw how the supposed greatest wizard in history manipulated others for his ends, and only for his ends. Everyone was expendable in his quest for power and control. Our family was simply a stepping stone, not a powerful and honoured family in his eyes. And then we learned that he was a fake, a half blood, and all he sold us was a lie, all of his motivation was to take his anger out on muggles who mistreated him, to take his anger out on the wizarding world that mistreated him and his family. Yes, he found a glimmer of hope in his family's history, in his connection to Salazar Slytherin. But that was all for his goal only. And where did it lead us? To the near destruction of our society, that's where it lead."

Narcissa put down her fork and stared at her son. "So what would you have us do now?"

Draco scoffed at his mother's question. "What would I have us do? First we need to stay our of prison. The victorious light side wants to bring everyone who supported Voldemort up on charges of treason, and throw them all in jail. Although, that itself may be a death sentence with the recent Azkaban Massacre. We need to get father out of jail before he dies or rather, before he is also killed. We need to find a way to support the family, restore the Malfoy name, and we can no longer rely on the family wealth."

"Oh, so very noble of you," mocked his mother.

"You mock me? You who stood by father's side through out all of this. You, who had your home stolen from you by the mad man, you who had everything you cared for destroyed or taken from you. You, who took one step on her own when she lied for Potter only because he gave you hope that I was still alive," snapped Draco. "This world will not make things easier for us. We could face the same fate as the Parkinsons if those muggle vigilantes find us."

Narcissa began to protest his comments, but he cut off his mother. "I am not a fool, mother, and don't make yourself out to be one either. We both know the facts that have been released, and some that haven't been made public. There were muggle weapons used right alongside magic in that attack. The ministry is not telling us everything. There is something more deadly going on that we do not fully know about. Oh, the war we thought we were fighting ended when Potter defeated the Dark Lord, but a new war, a more dangerous war, where we do not even know our enemy has begun, even if the ministry won't tell us. There is no other explanation for the sudden events, unless you think that the light side, in their victory, is seeking vengeance through murder and destruction."

"You have put a lot of thought into all of this," she said quietly while she tilted her head and inspected her son closely. "You have grown out of your sullen teen years, you have put behind you your arrogant entitlement, Draco. You, my son, are truly becoming the man that I always dreamed you could be. Now, what are you going to do about all of this?"

Draco sighed before he answered his mother. "Survive, first we find a way to survive. Then we find a way to protect ourselves, but not just our family, but our friends, our fellow witches and wizards. And if we are facing what I fear we are facing, then the only way we can make it through this is by all of those with magic coming together to stop a common foe."

Narcissa smiled, "I'm almost ready to vote for you for Minister for Magic."

* * *

LDW-7.6

* * *

" _Never seen anything like that before_

 _Falling bodies tumble 'cross the floor_

 _Well I'm a tumbler!"_

 **26 May 1998**

Andrew Middleton arrived with his team in Truro in Cornwall, and proceeded to make their way towards the coast. A car was waiting for them and they drove towards the Southeast to find the magical village of Tinworth, located on the coast. They already knew where they needed to go to find Shell Cottage, and they made good time walking from the village of Trewithian and then made their way towards the seaside and the location of the last remaining Weasley's home.

By leaving the car in Trewithian they figured that their approach would be less easily detected by the curse breaker who worked for Gringotts Wizarding Bank in London, and they assumed he would have various wards placed around his home due to his known skill in that area.

As they arrived within one mile of the coast, Middleton and his team pulled out their special goggles so they could see what ever wards were in place. When they were a little over 500 yards away from Shell Cottage they could see that the wards were designed to protect the home from various forms of attack, although the wards were weakest near the coast. Middleton sent Bushnell with Scott and O'Brien to make their way to the shore north of the cottage, while he and Flanders made their way to the south side of the property.

Middleton wanted to catch the occupants of the house by surprise as much as possible, so he devised a plan for near simultaneous attacks from either direction, however the initial attack would only take out some of the wards.

Andrew held the ward bomb in his hand gently, and slowly he flicked the button, charging the small device. He looked at his watch and saw that he had another two minutes to wait. He indicated for Flanders to ready his AR-15 style rifle while the other team prepared for the attack from the north.

Flanders nodded that he was ready and then Middleton lobbed the small bomb towards the ward line, and then there was a bright yellow flash. The flash was much shorter lasting than they had seen previously, but they realised that Middleton had intentionally weakened the bomb.

The crashing sound of the falling anti-magic ward definitely caught the attention of Bill and Fleur Weasley.

"Mon Dieu," called out Fleur as the felt something shake briefly. "What was that, William?"

"That was the main anti-magic ward on the perimeter of the property failing," he replied anxiously as he was getting up from his seat where he had been studying more about Ancient Egyptian runes. "This doesn't make sense that anything unusual would be going on, the war was ended for good. Maybe some of the teens from the village were experimenting with some new magic and set off the wards. I'll go check it out," he added as he had his wand in his hand and made his way outside. He quickly cast a detection spell and determined that whatever happened to the ward occurred towards the South.

As he was starting to make his way towards the location of the disturbance, he felt and heard another crash. This one caused him to stumble. But he spun around as he could feel this one came from the north.

O'Brien and Scott had both launched anti-magic mortars from the beach on the north side and they had taken down the remaining wards. The shock waves form the intensity of this attack caused many shingles from the roof of the cottage to be blown away. The shingles came crashing down around Bill Weasley who was trying to figure out what could be going wrong. He quickly surmised that with the sudden attack against the wards and the sudden damage to the roof of his cottage, then perhaps what happened to his family and the Burrow was in no way an accident.

Bill was more than a little concerned at this time, and was preparing to cast some quick protective spells. He transfigured the dirt and sand around him into a protective wall just before several bullets fired from the south slammed into the hastily created barrier. Bill then created a smoke screen to obscure his movements which however did not prevent the magically enhanced goggles the strike team were wearing from being able to track him as he dove out from behind the barriers. A hastily fired shot grazed the back of his leg and he rolled across the ground.

Hearing the shooting Fleur had followed him outside. Upon hearing the door close behind him, Bill tried to stand to warn her away, but he was dropped by two bullets to the chest before he could speak.

Fleur was enraged as she saw the man she loved fall to the ground, coughing up blood from the results of a muggle type weapon. She had never fully transformed prior to this day, but soon she was sprouting feathers and her arms turned into wings. She then took off up into the sky to get a look at who or what had been attacking them. She quickly espied Middleton and Flanders to the south, and immediately she sent off two fireballs in their direction. Middleton managed to duck behind a sand dune, but Flanders stood his ground, hoping that his magically enhanced armour would protect him from the magic thrown at him. The fireball incinerated a hole in his armour and the resulting burns to his chest caused a slow but painful death over the next few minutes.

A bullet fired from behind her pierced her left wing. Her anger continued to rise and her shrieking momentarily stunned the three men in the dunes to the north of her house. Scott managed to load his sniper rifle with an exploding round, but as he was readying to pull the trigger a fireball narrowly missed him and he dropped the tip of his gun. The errant shot hit the top of the cottage, causing an explosion that reduced the small house to rubble and sent a ball of flame up towards where Fleur was flying.

The three men relaxed, assuming that the explosion would consume the harpy flying towards them, but due to her affinity for fire magic the flames from the explosion had no affect on her, but the updraft created from the heat caused her to soar higher. The three members of the strike team assumed that she had been killed once the flames from the explosion cleared as they did not see that she was now even higher in the sky.

Then a large shadow crossed over them and the trio looked up as two more fireballs were approaching. Bushnell managed to roll to one side but Scott was not able to move quickly enough to avoid the fiery attack. Middleton had relocated to the top of another dune and fired a blasting hex towards the harpy which narrowly missed her. As Fleur turned to send a fireball towards the attacker from the south she was clipped in the shoulder by a shot from Bushnell.

Screaming in rage from the pain she spun in the air and brought both wings together as she sent an over powered fireball towards her latest assailant. The blast hit just in front of Bushnell but the massive amount of heat caused second degree burns over all of his exposed skin.

Middleton saw the burst of flames and heard the screams and went to check on his team members to the North. Scott and Flanders both had died from the fiery attacks, while Bushnell had received extensive burns over much of his body and O'Brien, who was on loan from Team Alpha, had managed to escape with minor injuries and only a few first degree burns.

As the attacks had let up, Fleur turned and started to fly east over the Channel, heading towards Plymouth. She arrived on the coast near Plymouth and crashed into the surf. Changing into human form as she crawled out of the water she knew she was severely injured, with a wound in her upper right arm and in her left shoulder. She stood on unsteady legs, and using what remaining will power she had left, she concentrated on the closest safe place she could think of, and then she disappeared with a crack.

* * *

LDW-7.7

* * *

 **June 1991**

" _And the heat goes on...And the heat goes on...And the heat goes on…"_

"So, it's been almost ten years since the Death Eaters were defeated," commented Andrew Middleton, sitting in a secluded section of a pub with his friend, Regis Barnes.

"That it has," acknowledged Barnes.

"So, they're gone, don't you get it? There has been sign of them in the magical world," observed Middleton.

"They're not gone, don't _you_ get it? Malfoy is still running around magical Britain like the cat who caught the canary, he thinks he is untouchable," replied Barnes. "Mark my words, they will work on mounting a come back, a fight to take back what they see is _their_ world."

Middleton took a deep breath and then he sighed. "You're going to submit your proposal to M once again, aren't you? I can see it in your eyes. You submit the same bloody proposal about every two years. I'm still not sure why."

"Is your family coming back? I don't think so," snapped Barnes, then he calmed himself down. "My family is not coming back, but the pure-bloods are still in power and they still don't think they did anything wrong when they took out our families, or other muggle born witches and wizards and their families, or any muggles for that matter. We've been working with the muggles for many years now. We're making progress on integrating magic and technology within Q division. We need this proposal to declaw the menace of what the pure-blood elite have become."

Middleton nodded slowly, "I've heard you say all of this before. But even with resubmitting the proposal for dealing with certain members of the pure-blood magical society, I just don't see anyone taking the proposal seriously."

"No, not yet," replied Barnes. "But they will, it is only a matter of time. The Death Eaters will return, they will fight for control of the magical world, and there will be collateral damage on the muggle side. And when that happens, my repeated proposals will be seen as prophetic, that they really don't understand the risks, and the powers that be will finally listen to me, listen to us."

"How can you be so sure about this?" wondered Middleton.

"Comments made by many of the Slytherins back when we were in school," explained Barnes. "They were all so sure of themselves. They know they will take back the power and the prestige that they believe is rightfully theirs. And besides, I have a plan. Once the power shift occurs again in the magical world, M and all of the other leaders won't help but accept my proposal."

Middleton just shut his eyes and shook his head, not wanting to consider exactly what his friend had planned. And he Middleton hoped that his friend would be wrong, and that there would not be a change in power coming anytime soon, or at all. But somehow, he knew enough about the Death Eaters and their families that he was pretty sure that Barnes would be proven right.

* * *

 **AN: Another chapter, with some more background information as well.**

 **I appreciate the reviews, but one** **comment that has been recurrent is a frustration with the development of this story. Yes, the OCs are figuring prominently because they are the ones instigating the conflict...and I am trying to give information about why they are doing what they are doing carefully and methodically.**

 **Don't worry, there will be a mounting response from the magicals...and there will be explanations for their initial lack of reaction.**

 **(Edited 3/2018)**

* * *

Lyrics: © 1980, "Born Under Punches", Talking Heads, Remain In Light, written by: Jerry Harrison, Tina Weymouth, Chris Frantz, David Byrne & Brian Eno


	8. Chapter 8 - What A Day That Was

LDW - 8

What A Day That Was

 _"They're movin' forward and backwards_

 _They're movin' backwards and front_

 _And they're enjoying themselves_

 _Moving in ev'ry direction_

 _And if you feel like you're in a whirlpool_

 _You feel like going home_

 _You feel like talking to someone_

 _Who know the difference between right and wrong_

 _But on the first day, we had everything we could stand_

 _Ooh and then we let it fall_

 _And on the second day, there was nothing else left at all_

 _Ooh what a day that was._

 _We're going boom boom boom That's the way we live_

 _And in a great big room and That's the way we live."_

* * *

LDW-8.1

* * *

The scene at the headquarters for MI-13 was a mess. M had come down herself to interview Middleton, who was giving his statement about how the strike had unfolded. A rescue team had been called in to retrieve the bodies of the three agents who were killed as well as Bushnell who was severely burned and was now receiving care at their medical facilities.

M was as stern as ever as she met with the strike team leader. "A bird? You're saying she turned into a bird?"

"A harpy," interjected Barnes with frustration. "The wife, Fleur Delacour, or Weasley, is from France, and has heritage relating to being a Veela." Seeing the blank look on M's face he continued to explain, "Veela originated in the Balkan and Slavic areas of Europe. Our reports was that this woman, Bill Weasley's wife, was only one quarter Veela, and as such it was believed that she would not be able to transform into the bird like, or harpy, form. Obviously our sources were mistaken."

M's expression soured even more. "What is being done about this woman or thing?"

"Team Alpha arrived on the scene as the rescue team was removing the bodies. She was tracked towards Plymouth and apparently she crashed into the surf near there," explained Barnes, "we have no idea if she even survived and if she did where she could have gone. Reports from St. Mungo's, the wizard hospital, indicate she has not shown up there."

* * *

LDW-8.2

* * *

 **Wednesday 27 May 1998**

Kingsley Shacklebolt was trying to control his internal rage over the events of the previous day at Azkaban Prison. The complete look of indifference on the faces of Tony Blair and the several cabinet members who were present only made him more angry.

The Prime Minister had just listened to the Minister for Magic detail what was found at the prison in the North Sea and how the investigation made it clear that muggles, non magicals, were clearly responsible for what had occurred, and that they had one or more wizards or witches with them.

Present at the table were four of the leaders of the government that Tony Blair felt would be appropriate to be sitting in on this meeting; the First Secretary of State, John Prescott; the Secretary of State for Foreign and Commonwealth Affairs, Robin Cook; the Secretary of State for Home Department, Jack Straw; and the Secretary of State for Defence, Lord Robertson.

Jack Straw spoke up first. "So, Minister Shacklebolt, you are here to tell us how unfortunate these events are that took place, however, I do not recall that any of your predecessors bothered to come speak to any of us, or our predecessors about the atrocities that these same individuals committed against our people. And if I were to believe your story, someone or some group of those with a non magical background, discovered your hidden island prison, broke through your magical wards, and subdued your guards without hurting them, and then killed all of your prisoners, most, if not all of whom had committed acts of murder against non magicals and acts of treason against the United Kingdom. And we are supposed to be upset about this?"

Kingsley was trying to present the information in a slightly different way and was shocked by the question.

As the Minister for Magic did not respond immediately, John Prescott then spoke up. "Minister, please answer me this, these individuals, these witches and wizards that were killed in your prison, were they not guilty of acts that could be considered sedition or treason when looked at from _our_ point of view? They overthrew your rightful government, they attacked and killed innocent non-magical people, what you call muggles. In our world, such acts _can_ be punished by death."

The Secretary of State for Foreign and Commonwealth Affairs, Robin Cook, interrupted and added, "The House of Commons just last week ratified the 6th Protocol of the European Convention in Human Rights. Essentially that outlaws any form of the death penalty."

"The Human Rights Act has not _yet_ been ratified by the entire Parliament, so that may not be an issue at this time," pointed out Prescott.

"The point is moot," added Tony Blair. "Our government did not carry out these actions."

"Was it not someone under orders from your departments?" questioned Shacklebolt.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," replied Prescott. "I have no idea who could have done this."

Lord Robertson stiffened at Shacklebolt's question, however and made his opinion on the matter clear. "Minister Shacklebolt, your people, these witches and wizards, they committed acts of war against our people. They murdered, they raped, they kidnapped people. They committed acts that violate the Geneva Convention. They are essentially terrorists who have declared war against our people. We didn't even know we were at war because people in _your_ world, under the authority of _your_ government, made _our_ people forget that these events _even_ _happened_. That to me is a cover up, a despicable action to hide the truth. Obviously your government cannot be trusted to act reasonably either during a time of peace or during a time of war. If we take actions to protect ourselves against the actions of a few of your people, then we have only done what is proper and decent to protect the very people we represent; people which wizards and witches have shown to care little for, if at all."

"Not all witches and wizards feel the way those few do, nor do we act the way they did," said Kingsley defensively.

"The track record of the Ministry of Magic is less than exemplary when it comes to actually protecting normal men and women and children," argued Jack Straw.

"We have a completely different leadership," replied Shacklebolt, "the current administration _cannot_ be held liable for the inadequacies of the previous minister."

Tony Blair coughed at that comment then he spoke plainly and bluntly. "As Prime Minister I cannot make excuses that actions of England, or more properly, the United Kingdom, can be laid at the feet of those who have sat in my position. We are the current stewards of this great nation, and we must and will take responsibility for what we do. We are not here to make excuses, but to make it clear, that when a nation, or a people, make war against our people, we will respond. We will respond swiftly and decisively. We will not tolerate terrorists, and we will not sit idly by while our people are attacked and killed."

Kingsley was a little surprised by the strong response from the PM. "Then what would you have me tell the people at the Ministry, at the Wizengamot, the people of magical Great Britain and beyond?"

"That is for you to decide," offered Prescott, "but we will not be stayed. We _will_ make sure that our people are safe."

"Then will the attacks against witches and wizards stop with the massacre at Azkaban?" wondered Kingsley.

"Any actions we have taken, and may choose to take in the future, will be for the sole benefit of the protections of freedom of our people," stated Lord Prescott. "So, to put it simply, if further action needs to take place, then it _will_ take place."

Kingsley could tell he had no sympathy from anyone in the government and he was certain that this was not the end of the discussion nor the actions to be taken by the muggle government. And he was fairly certain that at least one man had lied to him about the government of the United Kingdom not being involved with what happened at Azkaban. As he arrived back at his office he was becoming increasingly convinced that something was amiss with the government, as none of the individuals on Mister Blair's cabinet had acted so harshly in the past.

* * *

LDW-8.3

* * *

Fleur arrived at Grimmauld Place on Tuesday evening. She had managed to make it into the kitchen area before she collapsed from blood loss due to her injuries. Kreacher was soon aware of the presence of someone in the Black ancestral home and immediately went to investigate. While his matron would clearly have despised having a half blooded creature in the house, Kreacher recalled that this individual was a friend of Harry Potter, and he could not forget that Harry had promised to take care of the locket which he had been unable to destroy on his own. Harry Potter, filthy half blood that he may be, had proven that he had destroyed the locket and then went on to destroy the evil imposter of a pure-blood who had killed dear master Regulus. Kreacher had a hand in the fight to win the war as he led many of the house elves at Hogwarts to join in the battle.

"Master Harry Half-Blood's friend is here, and she is severely injured," he croaked upon finding the quarter Veela. "Ancient Black family elf magic can help, yes it can," he continued. The previous house elves who had served the Black Family well in the ages past and earned a place to have their head mounted on the wall had all needed to learn how to heal their masters if they returned home wounded or injured from a duel. The magic was handed down from house elf to house elf, and Kreacher would not fail his master and let a friend of his suffer.

Her bleeding soon stopped but Fleur was weak and could barely move. "Kreacher can get you into a bed in a minute, but he has to make the room ready, first," he explained in a scratchy voice. A minute later he returned to her side and then transported the injured woman to the room that he had prepared, the same room that Hermione Granger had stayed in back at the end of last summer when Master Harry the Half-blood had promised to help him.

Once he was sure that she had been stabilised and she was not in immediate danger of dying, he made his way to Hogwarts. He quickly found Harry who was heading up to his dorm room and pulled at Harry's sleeve.

"Master Harry," pleaded Kreacher, whose voice was not as harsh as it used to be, "you must come quickly with Kreacher. It is important, very important."

Harry was startled at first to have Kreacher arrive at his side at school. He had hardly seen him since the house elf brought him a sandwich when he was collapsing the night after the battle was over and he was so hungry but could hardly move. "Kreacher, I'm tired and I need to get some sleep."

Kreacher kept tugging at Harry's sleeve, "But Master Harry cannot go to sleep. He must come to Grimmauld Place, he is needed there."

Harry was puzzled by these comments, and he couldn't imagine why he was so desperately needed at the old Black home, one that he still felt was creepy despite Kreacher's efforts to clean it all up. "Can't it wait until the morning?" asked Harry as he hoped to just get some sleep.

"In the morning it could be too late," he pleaded.

Harry was now becoming even more concerned about what was going on and even a little wary. "Kreacher, this better not be a set up, you do know what will happen if you ever betray me again."

Kreacher let out a moan of anguish, "Kreacher knows, Kreacher knows. Kreacher would never betray Master Harry, as Master Harry kept his promise and allowed Kreacher's promise to good Master Regulus to be fulfilled. Master Harry defeated the evil man who killed good Master Regulus."

Harry understood that Kreacher was being honest and sincere at this time. "Fine, Kreacher, fine, I'll come with you."

Kreacher bounced on his feet slightly and grasped Harry's hand and then there was a quiet pop. They landed in the main entryway at Grimmauld Place and Harry was reminded of how easy it was to travel via house elf apparation compared to typical wizard magical transportation.

"Okay, okay," stated Harry, "we're here, so, now what is it that you needed me to come here for?"

Kreacher was still seemingly very excited. "Upstairs, she's upstairs," stated Kreacher has he started to bound down the hallway.

Harry shook his head, surprised to see the old house elf act this way, his excitement and his pleading was reminding him so much of how Dobby had acted, but Harry was sure that he would not ever admit that to Kreacher.

Harry followed the house elf upstairs and into the bedroom that Hermione had previously used. Harry was sure that he had left Hermione at the school, so he was confused as to what was going on. As he turned the corner and entered through the doorway he was shocked to see his friend, Fleur Weasley, the former Beauxbatons champion lying in the bed. Then he noticed that she looked quite pale.

Turning to look at Kreacher, Harry demanded an explanation. "What's going on Kreacher? Why is she here? Where's Bill? What happened?"

Kreacher pulled on his ears as he was besieged by the questions. "Kreacher is sorry, Master Harry, but Kreacher is not knowing all those things. Kreacher knows that he sensed someone enter the house. Kreacher came to investigate and found the half blood woman collapsed on the floor, injured, bleeding and nearing death. Kreacher used Black family elf magic and stopped the bleeding. But the miss is still sick, she is still too weak."

"Then we need to take her to St. Mungo's," stated Harry. "They should be able to take her of her just fine."

"No, master, no," pleaded Kreacher. "There must be a reason why pretty half-breed came here. She was very hurt, bleeding from holes in arm and shoulder, not created by wizard magic."

"What do you mean holes in arm and shoulder?" wondered Harry out loud.

"Small holes, bleeding from them lots when she arrived," reiterated the elf.

Harry dared to move closer and found a semiconscious Fleur lying on the bed. As he got closer he noticed that Kreacher had placed some makeshift bandages on her left arm and right shoulder. Fleur was not fully conscious as she called out in her delirium, "Bill, mon couer, Bill!"

She rolled slightly onto her right shoulder and there was a soft yelp of pain as she rolled back to her left side.

"What happened?" asked Harry, now worried for his friend.

Kreacher simply shrugged, "Kreacher does not know, only that she apparated into the house, and was bleeding from those injuries. She must have been hurt for a while and she must have lost a lot of blood."

Harry tried to figure out what to do but he had not taken any real classes in healing. "Do we have any blood replenishing potions? That would help?"

"Kreacher can get some," stated the elf. He then disappeared with a very quiet pop.

Harry quickly realised that this might not be a good thing. A minute later the elderly house elf reappeared and handed Harry two flasks.

"Where did you get these from?" demanded Harry as he took the flasks and looked at them warily.

"That is not important, Master Harry," replied the elf, "what is important is that master needed them and Kreacher obtained them."

Harry shook his head and sighed, trying to figure out how much he should give to Fleur. Then he muttered to himself, "I'm sure Hermione would be better prepared for dealing with this."

Kreacher's eyes widened as he heard this comment, "Kreacher can get master's mud blood friend."

Harry snapped at the house elf, "Stop using that term!" but as he was saying this the aged elf disappeared with another soft pop. "Bloody hell," he said to himself, "she's going to kill me." Then he thought about what Kreacher was most likely doing and then he said out loud, "I sure hope she doesn't sleep nude."

A couple of minutes later Hermione appeared with Kreacher. "What is the meaning of this Harry" demanded a tired Hermione with her hair all a mess, but Harry was grateful that at least she was dressed. "I had already gone to bed when Kreacher shows up in my room, in my dorm room! What if I was getting changed? He just popped in and demanded that I come with him because you needed me. I had to argue with him to let me get dressed first. Then he brings me here." She looked around slightly as she realised where she was. "Why are we at Grimmauld Place in my old room?" She looked around the room a little more and then added, "Harry, there is a woman in my old bed." Then after another pause she added, "Harry, why is Fleur in your house?"

"Uh, hi Hermione, and that is why I asked Kreacher to get you," said Harry as he was blushing, "sorry about that but, well, yeah, Kreacher brought me here and I'm not sure what's going on with Fleur. He's the one who knows more about this."

The two turned and looked at the house elf, "Master Harry's half breed friend arrived while Kreacher was working at Hogwarts, making sure Master Harry was being fed properly, when I sensed someone had entered the Black family home. Kreacher came to investigate and found her, lying on the floor bleeding, and I found that her injuries were not based on magic but muggle weaponry."

Hermione processed what she just heard, blinked her eyes momentarily then stated, "She was shot? How? Why?"

"Hermione, we have no idea, she's not entirely awake," Harry pointed out. "Kreacher tried healing her wounds with Black Family magic, but she is still sick. He obtained some blood replenishing potions, and we were hoping you could give us some idea of what to do next, like how much potion to give her."

"Why didn't you take her to St. Mungo's?" asked Hermione who was still trying to wrap her mind about the situation.

"Kreacher thought that it would be a bad idea to move her," explained Harry, then added, "besides something seems off about this. She was calling out for Bill. I'm worried something bad happened."

Hermione bit her lip. Then she looked at Harry, "Maybe you should go to Shell Cottage and see what's going on, and make sure you have your wand. And don't do anything stupid or foolish. I'll try and help Fleur."

Harry nodded and then concentrated on Shell Cottage and then he apparated away.

Hermione inspected the potions and then instructed Kreacher to help Fleur drink the first blood replenishing potion. She then tried to examine her and found to her relief that the quarter Veela was not feverish.

Ten minutes later Harry appeared in the entryway of Grimmauld Place with a pop. He ran up the stairs to the room where Fleur was. He was out of breath and he had tears on his face. Hermione turned and looked at him and her jaw dropped. "Oh my, Harry, what did you find?"

Harry was breathing hard and sat down on a chair. After a minute he managed to catch his breath, "No one was there, whoever did this, they were long gone. But, Bill, he was there. He was shot. Several times in fact. Twice in the chest and once in his leg. The house, Shell Cottage, it was levelled. There was evidence of fire attacks, I presume Fleur must have sent fireballs at whoever attacked them and shot her."

Hermione had tears in her eyes as she listened to Harry. She walked over and gave him a hug to comfort him. Then she stepped back.

Harry continued, "This was clearly deliberate. There were signs of magic. Someone must have used magic to take down Bill's wards. Whoever did this used a combination of magic and muggle weapons." Then he looked at Hermione and a fierce look came over him. "Which makes me believe that there was no accident when the Burrow was destroyed. Someone must have attacked them and made what happened to the Weasleys look like an accident."

Hermione felt horror stricken, and stared at Harry. "But who would, or could do such a thing?"

There was a sound behind them and they turned to find Fleur stirring in the bed as she sat herself up. Apparently she had awoken enough to hear what Harry said and she had tears streaming down her face. "These men, 'soldats sans sous-vêtements'," she said. "There was about five of them. I think I took out several of them."

Harry looked confused. He turned to Hermione, hoping that she would explain things for him. Hermione felt a little confused, "She said something about soldiers without underwear."

Harry started to laugh at her statement.

Hermione glared at him. "What is so funny?"

"Soldiers without underwear, commandos, that's what she must have meant," explained Harry with a slight smile, "although I'm fairly sure those soldiers were most likely wearing underwear."

Then he turned to Fleur, "So these commandos, they attacked you at the cottage?"

Fleur nodded, "Oui, they attacked. Somehow they brought down the wards that Bill had placed around the cottage and the property." Then she cried again, "William, you said he was shot. I saw them shoot him and I saw him fall. I, I actually transformed, fully into a Veela, I never did that before, I didn't think I would ever be able to do that. I was full of rage when I saw William fall. Guillaume, he fought so hard and so brave. But they had guns. They shot at me. I instinctively attacked them with my fire balls. I think I may have killed several men." Fleur's words ended with her sobbing greatly.

"There was no one there," pointed out Harry. "The cottage was destroyed. Whoever did this got away, even if they took their wounded and dead with them." Then he looked at Fleur apologetically.

Fleur wiped the tears from off of her face, and she looked around the room. "Are we, are we in London?"

"Yes, this is Grimmauld Place," replied Harry, "it used to belong to Sirius. Somehow you ended up here."

"I'm so sorry to bother you Harry," Fleur continued apologetically, "but I couldn't think of where else to go, when I was hurt. I flew east towards Plymouth, I think. Then I remember losing my strength and crashing into the water near the shore. I must have transformed back into my normal human form, and then I managed to crawl on to the beach. Then I concentrated on where I could go, where I should go, and I ended up here."

"You seem to be doing much better after that last potion," pointed out Hermione. "Maybe we should take you to St. Mungo's now."

"What? Merde, non!" she cried out, reverting back into French temporarily. "Those people, they knew where to find William. He was their target, clearly. I seemed to be an afterthought, particularly as they let me fly away. But, to be able to find us, and those weapons they used, they were like army, they were, what Harry said, commandos. They may still be looking for me."

"Do you really think it is that unsafe?" asked Hermione.

"These people," continued Fleur breathlessly, "they found our home, took down all of the wards that William had put in place and then they used muggle weapons to attack us both. They shot him down like he was some sort of hunted animal. I can only assume they are the same ones who attacked William's family. That could not have been an accident, not with this. And what did he or his family do? Why would they do this? Why? Pourquoi? Pourquoi?"

Fleur broke down into sobs once again, and Hermione sat on the bed and put her arm around her to comfort her.

"Let's stay here with you tonight, in Grimmauld Place," stated Harry. "Kreacher will make sure that we are all well fed and he can obtain anything else we need for you, but lets rest, and we'll talk more about this in the morning."

~~…~~

Wednesday morning

Hermione stayed in an extra bed that Kreacher put into the room with Fleur. Everyone remarkably had a very restful night. Harry was surprised by how well he had slept at Grimmauld Place. Fleur was even feeling stronger and the three had breakfast together in the dining area next to the kitchen and Kreacher actually seemed pleased with himself.

As they were finishing their food, Harry asked the two women with him what their next plans would be. Hermione was still planning to travel to Australia to search for her parents. And she indicated that this was now feasible with her access to the small amount of money she had in her vault at Gringotts, and Harry had generously offered to help out with her expenses. Hermione had initially balked at the idea, but Harry then explained to her how he had received money not only from his family, but also from Sirius and then from many of the Death Eaters as a form of payment for his deeds to secure the wizarding world and even the goblins ended up paying him for the service they were provided through the defeat of Tom Riddle.

Fleur had discussed that she was thinking of returning to France, to be with her family, as things were getting dangerous.

As they were finishing their meal, Kreacher appeared with the morning edition of the Daily Prophet. The front page detailed the events that had occurred just two days previously at Azkaban, now referred to as the Azkaban Massacre. Harry's jaw dropped as he read the news. The article included quotes from various anonymous sources within the Ministry of Magic. The leading theories were a group of vigilantes versus a secret government group that combined muggles and wizards. One person even suggested that it was all a conspiracy between Harry Potter and Kingsley Shacklebolt so that they could gain complete control of the magical world. However, the prevailing view was that it was either a group of vigilantes or a secret government action.

The trio read and reviewed the article and then proceeded to debate the various merits of the two prevailing theories.

"It must be a secret government action," concluded Harry.

Hermione frowned at that conclusion, "Do you really think that Prime Minister Tony Blair would allow such activity to take place?"

Harry tilted his head as he considered the question. "He did reach the peace accords with the IRA, and his government has made it clear that they have no tolerance for any sort of terrorists. The Death Eaters definitely acted like terrorists, especially with their previous attacks against muggles."

"But wouldn't this be a little extreme, even for dealing with terrorists?" questioned Hermione.

Harry nodded slightly, but then he gave a rebuttal, "But, if you're dealing with people who can make you forget that an attack even happened, and who treat the rest of the population, the muggles, like they are worthless and of no consequence, what other recourse would you have? What other response would they make?"

Hermione furrowed her brow as she listened to Harry. "But, even still, this is extreme. The war is over! The Death Eaters were mostly all locked up. Why go to this extreme?"

Fleur laughed at Hermione's question. The two others stared at her. Fleur apologised quickly for the slight outburst then she went on to explain. "But you must see, the track record of your ministry, it is not good, is it. The Death Eaters, they caused lots of trouble, they killed many, and they got away with it, again and again. During this war and the first war when Harry was a baby. And if they, this secret government group, knew that they, the prisoners that is, that they had all previously escaped Azkaban, keeping such people there would not be looked at as being particularly helpful, non?"

Hermione reluctantly agreed that Fleur had a point. Then she looked at the part Veela and asked her pointedly, "If we assume that this is some sort of secret group, if they are essentially government sponsored assassins, or what have you, would you stay here? Or would you return to France?"

Fleur thought hard about what she would do. "Je ne sais pas, I don't know, I'm not sure. It probably would be best to return to France. I could transfer and get a new job with Gringotts in Paris or somewhere else in Europe. That might be the safest thing to do."

"And you Hermione," asked Harry, "what do you plan to do?"

"If this is some sort of new war, I can't just leave," she said, sadly, already worrying about her friends. "I mean, if it is true, and the people who attacked Bill and Fleur, if they also attacked the Weasley's and did this other attack against the prisoners, then everything could become very dangerous." She took a deep breath and she announced her resolve, "I should stay and help."

"We don't know _who_ is doing this, or even _why_ ," commented Harry. "Why would a group that attacked Azkaban also want to attack the Weasley's? What do those groups have in common? This just doesn't make any sense."

"Witch hunts," suggested Hermione. "The actions of the Death Eaters allowed more non magicals to learn about the magical world and now they are seeking revenge, and they're attacking everyone. Witch, wizard, dark, light, they just don't care."

The three sat around the table, feeling quite somber after reading the news about the attacks and feeling that somehow they must be linked to the attacks against the Weasley family as well as Bill and Fleur the night before.

"So, now what do we do?" asked Fleur.

"Maybe we should speak with Kingsley," suggested Harry.

Hermione quickly agreed, then Harry continued, "And I really think it would be best for you to take your trip to Australia. If everything turns out to be fine, then we'll let you know. If there continues to be a problem then you can stay there."

"But, what about if there is a new war?" asked Hermione, starting to worry more.

"Then you won't need to be a part of it," affirmed Harry. "If things become a problem, I promise I'll let you know."

"But if I leave, then I'll be worried, I'll feel responsible if something happens," complained Hermione.

"We'll start by talking with Kingsley," reassured Harry. "We can head to the school, talk to Professor McGonagall, touch base with everyone at school, and then we can reach out to Shack." Harry considered the warning that Shack had recently given him, that there were those within the British government who would consider Harry to be dangerous. He wasn't sure how to share that information with Hermione.

Hermione was reassured by the current plan, but then she looked at Fleur.

"I'll be fine here, for now," she said simply. Then she looked to Harry, "If it's okay with you that I stay here for now, Harry."

"Of course it's okay," answered Harry, "and Kreacher will continue to help take care of you. Maybe we can even get Madam Pomfrey to check on you. If it is true that someone was after both of you, or that you might have been in continued danger by going to St. Mungo's, at least we know that we can trust Madam Pomfrey."

Fleur smiled as she replied quietly, "Merci beaucoup, I really do appreciate this Harry."

Harry and Hermione then used the floo to return to Hogsmeade and walked quickly up to the school. Shortly after they arrived they ran into the Headmistress who was concerned about the disappearance of two of her favourite students, particularly with the news of the attacks on Azkaban.

"Professor," spoke Hermione quickly, "I'm so glad we found you! We need your help, or at least your advice. There was an attack!"

"Yes, yes, Hermione," stated McGonagall in tone that was clearly trying to calm down the bright young witch, "we have heard all about what happened at Azkaban, about the massacre that happened there. Tragic, for sure, but I think there are many who will sleep easier by not having to worry about those individuals."

"No, that's not what we meant," corrected Harry. "There was an attack at Shell Cottage yesterday. Bill Weasley was killed. Fleur was injured."

McGonagall gasped at hearing this latest information. She was speechless for a moment as she processed what she had just heard.

"It's true, professor," acknowledged Hermione. "We know where Fleur is, and we are worried for her continued safety. What if there are more attacks? What if all of these attacks are related? Can Madam Pomfrey see Fleur? How can we be sure to stay safe?"

"Slow down, Hermione," admonished the headmistress, "that's just too many questions at once."

Hermione was about to complain and ask more questions when Harry placed a hand on her shoulder. "Relax, Hermione, she obviously isn't aware of everything that we have been dealing with since last night."

"What's this about Bill Weasley?" asked Minerva.

"Fleur was hurt yesterday," Harry began to explain in a slower pace, "she was hurt when they were attacked at Shell Cottage. Bill was killed, in fact he was shot multiple times, by a muggle gun. Fleur actually transformed into a Veela, and then she was shot by these commandos who had broken down their wards. Somehow she survived getting shot herself. Then she managed to escape and apparate to Grimmauld Place. And then, as the surprises didn't stop, Kreacher, the old Black Family house elf, well he found her and he worked on healing her. But he couldn't do it all by himself, so he came here to Hogwarts and brought me there to help her. Then I asked him to get Hermione, and…"

"Slow down Potter," chastised McGonagall, "you're not doing much better than Granger did. So, let me see if I understand you; someone killed Bill and they also attacked Fleur, but she survived and is currently at Sirius' house, I mean your house. Shouldn't you be talking to Madam Pomfrey?"

"We were going to see if she could check on Fleur," stated Hermione.

"But why didn't you take her to St. Mungo's?" asked McGonagall.

"Well, Fleur was worried, seeing as how someone managed to track down their house, and attack them, that somehow the ministry or people with some sort of connections must have helped out whomever was doing this, so she thought going to a place such as St. Mungo's might be too dangerous," explained Harry.

"Why would she be so worried about that?" wondered Minerva.

"It seems quite fishy that Mrs. Weasley would have been making dangerous potions or that she would have been so careless that such a tragedy as an explosion destroying the Burrow could ever happen," explained Hermione. "So it seems more likely, no matter how hard to fathom it might be, but more likely than not, that someone either sabotaged her potions or someone caused the explosion and made it look like it was a potions accident."

"Thats a horrible accusation to make," warned the headmistress.

"Yes, it is a horrible thing to think about," acknowledged Harry. "But when you consider the events of two days ago, the break in at Azkaban and the killing of all the prisoners, well that is concerning in and of itself. And it lends itself to the idea of some sort of conspiracy or attacks on wizards and witches."

McGonagall nodded in understanding, but then she pointed out that it wouldn't make sense for someone to go after the prisoners and the Weasley's, as they were on completely different sides of the war.

Hermione bit her lip as she considered the problem with that line of reasoning. "Maybe there is something else that would connect them all," she suggested.

"Most of the prisoners were pure-bloods," Harry pointed out. "And the Weasley's are, or rather, were, pure bloods."

"But they were considered Blood-traitors by the Pure-bloods," McGonagall reminded them.

"Even so," added Hermione, "it is concerning and that is at least a small connection."

McGonagall took a deep breath as she considered the information. "Hermione, why don't you go and find Madam Pomfrey, she should be at the infirmary, and things have quieted down quite a lot for her over the past couple of weeks. See if she can go with you and check on Fleur." Then she turned to Harry, "Come with me to my office, young man, and maybe we can make a floo call to the Minister for Magic."

"Interim, Minister, isn't it?" corrected Harry.

"That was true until yesterday, In response to the attack on Azkaban, the Wizengamot just voted to make the position full time and no longer just an interim title," offered McGonagall in explanation.

The two then made their way to the headmistress' office, and there was surprisingly no password to get past the gargoyle. McGonagall figured that a password would be superfluous. Anyone she was expecting should be allowed to come up without any problem. And, as there were already monitoring spells placed on the stairs, if anyone who tried to make their way into the area the headmaster or headmistress would be alerted before they made it to the door. Harry noticed these changes as they made their way up towards her office.

Once inside, the headmistress went to her fireplace and tossed in some floo powder and called out for Kingsley Shacklebolt. There was no initial response from the Minister and Minerva knew that there would be no way to go directly to his office. The headmistress was not surprised that they received no response, but felt they needed to come up with a way to contact Kingsley as quickly as possible.

"I suppose I could write a note and send him an owl," commented McGonagall.

"Wouldn't a patronus charm be quicker?" asked Harry.

"Yes, yes it would," stated Minerva with a nod of her head. "I'm not sure why I didn't think of that right away on my own."

She then pulled out her wand, quickly cast the spell and a shiny ethereal tabby cat jumped out and waited to receive the message she had for it, then it bounded out of the room. Minerva sat down in her chair behind her desk and indicated to Harry that he should take a seat. After a heavy sigh, she looked around her room, then opened a drawer in her desk. Harry heard the sound of a glass bottle clinking and then the headmistress placed an old dusty bottle in front of her. She then pulled out two small glasses, poured about an inch of dark amber liquid into one and only about 1/2 inch into the other. She then pushed the glass with less liquid in it towards Harry.

"Go ahead, Mister Potter," she said with the slightest of smiles, "I suppose I owe you this for being too complacent when Albus left you on the doorstep of your relatives all those years ago."

Harry tentatively picked up the glass and looked at it closely.

Minerva added with more of a smile, "It won't bite, but I suggest you start with small sips. It's my family's own Scotch whiskey, you couldn't afford to buy it if you wanted."

Harry raised an eyebrow then took a tentative sip. He felt the smooth burn of the liquid and tried not to react. He had previously tried fire whiskey, courtesy of the Weasley twins, but this was smoother and more enjoyable. He noticed the headmistress give him a slight smile.

After Harry put his glass down, the headmistress then spoke in somber tones. "It has been a difficult few weeks, between your returning to the school to fight against Tom Riddle, to the loss of lives during the battle, to the sudden loss of your friend Ron and his family, and now this." She gave a slight laugh that was almost chilling. "Who would have thought that the end of that war would be followed by even more ominous events?"

Harry nodded as he listened to the headmistress.

Then she lifted her glass once more, and proposed a toast, "To lost friends, whose memories we will never lose, as we are here today because of what they did for us."

"To lost friends," Harry said in reply as he raised his glass, then he took a final sip of the whiskey.

"The last time I shared the family whiskey with a former student was with your parents, shortly after you were born," recalled McGonagall. "I would prefer to not have to wait so long before I do so again, but that does not give you permission to tell anyone I gave you whiskey, particularly from my family's bottle. Even the other staff would be jealous," she added with a wink.

A minute later there was a knock on the door to her office, and Minerva stated to Harry, "That would be Poppy and Hermione," knowing full well who had just come up the spiral staircase to her office.

The two stood up and greeted the women. "Where is this patient that Miss Granger was telling me about? Oh, hello Mister Potter, at least you have avoided gracing my beds with your presence for the past several weeks, but I'm really not sure how long that will hold out."

"Fleur Delacour," replied Harry, "er, I mean Weasley, is at the Black Family home, Grimmauld Place. We can head there right away."

"Then lead on, young man, time may be of the essence," responded the healer.

"I think we can use the floo," replied Harry, looking for permission from McGonagall which he received with a quick nod. "Just let me go first to make sure that everyone else will be permitted entrance. No need testing out any ancient Black Family wards."

"Very wise indeed, Mister Potter," said Madam Pomfrey with a slight gleam in her eye. Then she turned to Professor McGonagall, "See, I told you he would turn out okay despite all those injuries and accidents."

Harry then stepped through the fireplace after tossing some floo powder in, and stumbled out into Grimmauld Place.

"Kreacher!" he called out.

Harry was startled by Kreacher speaking from behind him, seeming to appear silently, "What does Master Harry need?"

Harry jumped slightly, "Don't do that," he admonished. "What do I need to do to allow others to come through the floo into the house? Hermione will be coming through with the healer, Madam Pomfrey as well as Minerva McGonagall, the new headmistress at Hogwarts."

"Kreacher knows who they are," replied the house elf with a bit of an attitude. "If master wants, Kreacher can adjust the wards."

"Thank you, Kreacher," stated Harry, "that would be very much appreciated."

Kreacher closed his eyes for a moment then opened them, "It is done, Master Harry."

Hermione then stepped through the floo a minute later, followed by Professor McGonagall and then Madam Pomfrey. Before anyone could say anything, Poppy turned around the room as she called out, "Now where is my patient?"

"The second bedroom upstairs," answered Hermione, "I'll lead the way."

Poppy completed her evaluation of the injured French witch and soon had some new potions recommended to help her recovery. "Nasty things, those muggles weapons," complained Poppy. "It's a good thing you called me, those wounds could easily have become infected, and now her muscles will get to heal properly." Then she looked sternly at the quarter Veela, "I would not recommend attempting a transformation for at least a couple of weeks."

"But I didn't do it intentionally," protested Fleur.

"Then how did you manage a full transformation when you are only a quarter Veela? I do remember a lot about all of my patients, and you had your share of needing my services during that damned fool TriWizard Tournament," stated the healer.

"Je ne sais pas," answered Fleur, "it just sort of happened."

Madam Pomfrey frowned at the response. "Well, then it was probably triggered by the emotional response. I can only imagine how you must have felt seeing those people do what they did to Bill. He was a good man, and unlike some young men," she added with a glance towards Harry, "he was rarely a visitor at my infirmary."

Fleur smiled at the healer as she was clearly trying to put her at ease.

While the group was making sure they had everything that they would need to help with Fleur's recovery there came a patronus from Kingsley Shacklebolt. The lynx delivered one simple message: "28".

The group stood there and stared at the fading shimmering image of a lynx, wondering what it could possibly mean.

Harry then shrugged his shoulders, "I'm sure we can work on figuring that out later. Perhaps he meant that something is going to happen tomorrow, as that is the 28th. Or maybe he will get back to us tomorrow. But regardless, what I would like to do is make Grimmauld Place even more secure." He then turned to Minerva McGonagall, "This home had previously had a Fidelius Charm placed on it, but then that protection eventually failed after Professor Dumbledore died. Is there someone who could cast that charm to give extra protection to Fleur while she is here?"

"Shouldn't she be safe enough here, anyway? She shouldn't need that kind of protection," wondered Poppy.

Harry then explained his reasoning to her. "The problem is that whomever attacked them and killed Bill, well, they had a way to find Shell Cottage despite all of its security measures and wards. Those protections worked well enough to keep away the Death Eaters, but this group somehow is able to get past such barriers. If they can't find this house, or even know about it, then it makes Fleur even that much safer."

Everyone acknowledged that Harry had a very valid point.

"I could cast the spell, although I would need to review it beforehand," stated the headmistress.

"I'd be glad to help," added Hermione.

"Well, then, if we review the spell shortly, we could be prepared to cast it within the hour, although it is complex enough it would take at least 15 minutes to actually get the charm to take effect," explained McGonagall. "And then everyone who is not aware of the secret would forget anything they know about this place."

"I'm okay with that," stated Harry.

Hermione was eager to study about the spell and learn how to put it into practise.

Two hours later they were putting the finishing touches on the spell — and Harry had insisted that Minerva be appointed as the secret keeper. She initially tried to protest but Hermione, Fleur and Poppy all agreed that she would be a perfect candidate for becoming the new secret keeper.

Soon they had everything done and cast, and everyone was feeling a little more calm about having Fleur recovering at the ancient house.

Hermione seemed tense, however, despite having spent time in study as she was learning a complex spell and working closely with one of her favourite professors. The headmistress noted that something was off and asked her to open up to the group.

"Well, its just that I have mixed feelings about what I was planning to do," began Hermione. "There is so much I could do here to help out, what with the mystery of the killings at Azkaban and the need to help rebuild the magical society."

Madam Pomfrey looked at her with narrowed eyes, feeling as though she was missing something.

Hermione felt the gaze of the healing mistress bare down upon her, "What is it that I don't know about, young lady?"

"I sent my parents away to Australia," said Hermione meekly, "so that way they would be safe from the war over the past year."

"What else am I missing? Obviously there is more to this story," observed a concerned headmistress.

Hermione looked to Harry, who put his hands up, "I had nothing to do with it," he stated, "so don't drag me into this."

Hermione closed her eyes briefly before explaining further. She took a deep breath then she spoke quickly, "Well, I wanted to make sure that they were safe and that it would be really hard for someone to find them and if something happened to me I didn't want them to feel bad and I didn't want them worrying about me with everything that Harry and I had planned to do, so I…"

Her voice trailed off as she had tears welling up in her eyes. Madam Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall were staring at her, trying to make sense of the apparent rambling message from one of their favourite students.

"Go on," stated Madam Pomfrey encouragingly, "tell us what you did."

Hermione bit her lip then she continued, "I may have obliviated them of their memories of me and their identities, and then I gave them new identities of a couple that had a strong desire to relocate to Australia."

"By Merlin's beard, how could you have been so careless," exclaimed McGonagall.

"Do you know how lucky you are that you didn't fry their brains?" stated Madam Pomfrey. "An inexperienced witch, casting mind charms? They might never be able to remember their real lives!"

"I wanted them to be safe!" protested Hermione. "I was really worried with everything that was happening, and I knew that I would help Harry in anyway possible to try and finish this war. And, sorry Harry, but I really didn't think that we could pull it off. I honestly thought we would all probably end up dead, or worse!"

"Yeah, like expelled," added Harry trying to lighten the mood.

"Harry Potter!" chided Professor McGonagall.

Hermione, however, was starting to giggle a little at his comment.

"Professor, Hermione once used that phrase to warn Ron and me to not do something foolish, she was more worried we could get expelled from school than get seriously hurt," stated Harry.

"And?" asked Professor McGonagall.

"And what?" wondered Harry.

"Did you?"

"Did we what? Oh, no, you should know that we never got expelled. However, I may have ended up spending some time at the infirmary not long after she made that comment," admitted Harry.

Poppy rolled her eyes at Harry's statement. Then she turned back to Hermione. "Do you even know how to reverse the spell?"

Hermione shyly nodded yes, and then added, "Well, I have only studied it, and I have read seven different sources that discuss how to repair memories. But, clearly, I have not had any practical experience with this sort of thing."

"And just what are you planning on doing?" asked Poppy, a little more gently at this point.

"I was going to travel to Australia, track them down, as I do have the names I gave them," Hermione explained. "So I should be able to find them as I also gave them specific preferences for where they might want to live."

"And when were you planning on making this trip?" McGonagall asked.

"I was originally planning on leaving within the next week," said Hermione, "but with everything going on I don't think that this is the best time to leave."

Poppy shook her head, "No, no, the sooner you restore their memories, the less problems they may have. Although, I should warn you, such a complete memory charm being left in place for such a long time could have long lasting side effects."

"The books didn't say anything about that," frowned Hermione.

"Which is why such things should be left to trained and experienced professionals," commented Poppy. "Its one of those details which is learned during the practical lessons when training to become a healer."

Hermione collapsed into a chair and put her face into her hands as she started to cry, "Oh, no, what have I done?"

Poppy walked over to her and placed a hand on her shoulder, "If your parents took their new personalities as well as it seems, for you didn't tell me there were serious issues when you last saw them, then I imagine that you did a really good job with the charm. However, that is not surprising, young lady, as I do know your academic record when it comes to magic."

"I could go help her," offered Harry.

"Always the noble one, Harry," observed McGonagall, "but right now you have a house guest who is needing care, and I thought you were wanting to look into what happened to the Weasley family and what happened at Azkaban. Is leaving for Australia really what you should be doing right now?"

Hermione looked at Harry, an expression of thanks in her eyes for offering to help. "I think I can manage this on my own, Harry, but I do appreciate the offer. Things seem to be pretty stable for the magical world down in Australia."

"I'm going to be fine," commented Fleur, "and I may end up returning to France, soon, anyway. So, you all don't need to worry about me."

The group then discussed what they needed to do to help Hermione get ready for her trip to Australia, and Harry offered to help pay for her travel expenses, once again having to point out that financially it was not going to be any burden on him to do so.

Poppy returned to Hogwarts to prepare the necessary potions to help with Fleur's recovery. Shortly after that Minerva also returned to the castle, as there was still so much to do with overseeing the repairs at the school, in addition to working out a list of faculty as many new teachers would have to be brought on to cover those that were lost during the recent war.

* * *

 **AN: Thanks for the reviews and for reading this. There have been a few readers who have given up due to their frustration with the lack of response so far from the magicals...and I still say have patience...**

 **(Edited March 2018)**

* * *

Lyrics: © 1984, "What A Day That Was", Talking Heads, Stop Making Sense, written by: David Byrne


	9. Chapter 9 - Animals

LDW - 9

 **Animals**

" _They say they don't need money_

 _They're living on nuts and berries_

 _They say animals don't worry_

 _You know animals are hairy?_

 _They think they know what's best_

 _They're making a fool of us_

 _They ought to be more careful_

 _They're setting a bad example_

 _They have untroubled lives_

 _They think everything's nice_

 _They like to laugh at people_

 _They're setting a bad example_

 _(Go ahead) Laugh at me."_

* * *

LDW-9.1

* * *

 **Friday 29 May 1998**

As it turned out, nothing untoward or particularly newsworthy occurred on Thursday, May 28, so Harry assumed that the message from Kingsley Shacklebolt had nothing to do with the date. Harry also had been unable to arrange to speak with the minister directly as he was becoming increasingly busy with meetings.

Harry had managed to take Hermione to Gringotts Wizarding Bank on Thursday and reassured her that financially he was well off, and then he helped her with arranging her travel plans and also with establishing an account with Gringotts that she would also be able access while she was in Australia. Hermione would be travelling by a series of international port-keys, with brief lay overs in various cities, at the magical transportation hubs, often located at major international airports. The several trips would help her more easily adjust to the time zone changes as she moved through the day and eventually arrived in Sydney. She had a room reserved for her at one of the fancier magical hotels there, and a restless sleep potion that was specifically designed to help the person who ingested it adjust quickly to the new time zone.

Hermione arrived at the hotel on what was Saturday evening, but by the time she had finally checked in, she had gone across the multiple time zones, and she appreciated having the potion to take to help her adjust to her new surroundings. As she closed her eyes after taking the potion, her last conscious thoughts were about Harry and hoping that he was doing well with his endeavours to figure out what was really going on in magical Great Britain; however, she was not able to get worried about it as she was soon sleeping restfully, and about ready to embark on her own new adventure — searching for her parents and hoping to undo all the damage she had done.

* * *

LDW-9.2

* * *

In London, Harry was pacing in the main lounge of Grimmauld Place. Fleur was already feeling well enough that she had left the bedroom she had been placed in and was seated in the large room on a particularly comfortable chair.

"Harry, you must stop this incessant pacing, it is becoming most irritating," stated Fleur with a sigh of frustration.

Harry stopped in his tracks and turned and looked at the French beauty, then he stared at the chair she was sitting in. He didn't recall seeing that chair there in the past, either when he spent time here before Sirius died or even last summer when he was hiding here wth Ron and Hermione.

"Harry, s'il vous plait, stop staring at me like that," stated Fleur, still irritated with the young man in front of her.

Harry shook his head, "Oh, sorry, I wasn't staring at you, Fleur, but the chair. I don't recall that chair being here before."

Fleur was a little startled and looked at the chair and was about to stand up. "What? What is wrong with this chair?"

"Nothing, nothing at all," commented Harry, "its just different or new."

"Perhaps Kreacher upgraded the furniture," suggested Fleur, "he has become quite the attentive house elf."

Harry nodded in agreement. "At least he isn't as crazy as Dobby was," he muttered.

There was a quiet pop when the aged house elf appeared and sneered, "Please kind master, do not compare me to that young fool." Then with the same quiet pop the house elf disappeared again.

"Attentive, yes, quite attentive," stated Harry with a sigh.

"But enough of that," said Fleur, trying to return the conversation to her initial comment. "You must stop this pacing, not only are you going to wear out the rug and your shoes, you're driving me crazy."

"But," began Harry in protest, "I still need to figure out the connection between what happened to Bill and his family before that, and Azkaban."

"How are you so sure that there is a connection?" asked Fleur.

Harry had an expression of surprise in response to her question. "How can I not be? The explanation of what happened at the Burrow makes no logical sense. At times I wonder if witches and wizards ever heard of logic. And then with what happened to you and Bill, well, that was clearly an orchestrated attack, as were the attacks at Azkaban, obviously. But the mystery here is why you and Bill? Why the Weasley family? And what does the number twenty-eight have to do with any of this? And I suppose I shouldn't be worrying you about in all of this, as you'll probably be returning to France shortly."

"About that," said Fleur tentatively, "I may not be returning to France."

"Were you going to head somewhere else?" asked a surprised Harry.

"No, I was hoping to stay here," she said simply.

"Stay here? But you can't do that. It would be too dangerous," argued Harry. "Whoever attacked you and Bill, they are probably still looking for you. You're in danger as long as you stay here."

"But I cannot run away when the villains who murdered my husband are out there, and you know as well as I do that the Aurors don't have the time nor the staff to look into all of this properly," argued Fleur.

Harry rubbed his face with his hand then ran his hand through his hair. "I suppose you might be right," he conceded.

"I _am_ right," insisted the quarter Veela. After a moment's pause, she continued, "If you're going to be looking into what happened to _my_ husband and my in laws, then I will be helping you. And, no, there will be no discussion or argument."

Harry scratched the back of his head, then shrugged his shoulders, "I suppose you do have a point. And I know you are not only a talented witch, but you are quite determined. And I'd much rather have you helping me than competing against me," he added with a smile.

"Besides," continued Fleur, "I owe you, my family owes you."

"What are you talking about?" asked a slightly confused Harry.

"The second task, that is what I'm talking about," stated Fleur.

Harry tilted his head, still a little confused.

"You rescued my sister, or was that so long ago or so unimportant to you that you forgot," snapped Fleur.

"No, no, I didn't forget and no it wasn't unimportant," protested Harry. "I saved Gabrielle because it was the right thing to do, not to make someone owe me any favours. And besides, she wasn't ever in any real danger. At least, that's what everyone said after I retrieved her from the lake."

Fleur shook her head. "It's not that simple, Harry. You didn't know that the hostages were safe. None of us did. The clue stated that what ever was taken from us would never be returned if we didn't recover it within the one hour time limit."

Harry started to argue with her, but Fleur interrupted him. "No, you don't get to argue that point. I saw the look on your face when you came out of the water, and we both know that it was not that simple as you were attacked as you tried to rescue Ronald and Gabrielle. The final task was supposed to be safe, too, but you know better than anyone how that turned out. You, Harry Potter, saved my little sister's life, and I owe you a life debt for her."

Harry had a confused look on his face.

"She was much too young to be forced into a life debt," stated Fleur, "so I swore on oath to take on her life debt. I owe you my life, or whatever you request of me."

Harry shook his head as he tried to understand what this all meant. He then voiced his confusion, "What does that even mean, a life debt?"

"As I just stated," explained Fleur slowly, "I owe you my life. I must do something to protect your life even if it causes me to lose my life, or I must perform some sort of service to you that you demand instead of my doing something to save your life or I die trying."

Harry had a bewildered look on his face. Then he hesitantly asked, "Anything?"

Fleur actually replied with a slight blush, "Yes, anything."

Harry scrunched his face up, "Ooh, that is _so_ wrong. I wouldn't do anything like that to you. Ever."

"I know Harry," acknowledged Fleur. "You are a noble young man, and not some ridiculous little boy. I will always be embarrassed about my words to you that night you found yourself forced to compete in the tournament."

Harry smiled slightly, "That's okay, Fleur. It may have been irritating to me that night, but it really doesn't bother me. Who could have blamed you anyway, you had just been picked to be a champion, something you wanted, something you were excited about, and then everything changed."

Fleur shrugged her shoulders. "Whatever, Harry, but the point is, I _will_ stick by your side to help you through this whole mess. Whatever this mess really is. And you're not getting rid of me."

* * *

LDW-9.3

* * *

 **Saturday 30 May 1998**

It was a gorgeous spring day in England. The old brick manor house in Osbourne St. Andrew stood outside of the village. Most of the village hardly even knew the manor was there, as it was warded to prevent muggles from taking notice of its presence.

The people in the village were out tending to their gardens on the sunny afternoon. A few people looked up as a large van rolled down the streets through the village, and then it headed north towards the rarely noticed manor house. The van drove past the manor house and turned down an old dirt road, past the Holy Cross Parish Church. The van came to a stop and several men climbed out of the back. They were all dressed in green fatigues, and they were equipped with backpacks and special goggles.

"So, the plan this time is to get through the wards, without dismantling them," stated Barnes. "We will then use this ward stone to set up magical locks on the doors and windows. Starks will scale the outside walls, get onto the roof and place the smoke bombs in each of the chimneys."

The group acknowledged the review of the mission plan with their leader, who then continued, "Mills, you will search the back side of the property, looking for evidence of anyone who might be outside."

Mills then spoke up, "But wouldn't most of the family be outside, it is quite a nice day, and everyone else in the village seemed to be busy in their gardens."

Barnes laughed slightly at the question. "Wizards don't necessarily think that way. A family like the Flints, they would have house elves tending to their gardens for them. Besides, Lord Flint is probably reviewing his latest acquisitions. He has been in the trading business for generations. He considered himself too preoccupied to actually fight in either the first or second wizarding war on behalf of the Death Eaters. His son was supposed to make a respectable name for himself, first through Quidditch and then through politics. Didn't quite have the brains for making much of himself. He was the one that Middleton took out single handedly a couple of weeks ago. Our informant indicated that since his son died, dear old dad has been holed up inside his study. His wife passed on a few years back. There might be house elves or some other servants outside, and it's our job to make sure they don't try to do anything to save Flint."

Scott pulled out a large object from his backpack. Barnes nodded, "Yes, you will toss that up to Starks on the roof, and he will place it into the main chimney. Make it look like some birds built a nest there and eventually the fumes killed the old man."

Scott scratched his head as he considered the plan. "Yeah, I get the whole plan, except for why are we going to such an extreme to make it look like an accident? We did that with the first place we attacked. But there was no subterfuge when we attacked that island."

Barnes sighed and then explained, "As I told you before, we want to shake things up. The wizards' newspaper is already questioning what is going on, particularly after what they now call the Azkaban Massacre. Taking out another family in the same manner might make them actually take action. Mysterious happenings, in combination with the outright attacks we have done and we have planned, that will keep them fearful and unsure of how to respond."

Scott nodded his head slightly from side to side, accepting what he was told. "Now, I'll grab the ward portal, and we'll make our way to the near wall where there is the gate which is where we can set the portal up."

The men made their way to the north wall outside of the house, and using their goggles the men could see that the ward line ended at the wall. Barnes took the small rectangular box, flipped a switch and slight hum could be heard from the object. There came an invisible shield that was emitted from it, although it was clearly seen with their special goggles. Barnes walked slowly towards the gate, with the invisible bubble slowly penetrating the glow of the wards. The wards seemed to be simply pushed back around the bubble and then Barnes reached the gate, opened it and placed the box in the middle of the entryway. The team members then easily walked through into the yard to begin their mission.

Twenty minutes later, they were leaving through the gateway, and Barnes retrieved the small box.

"Do we need to do anything about the ward stone you placed in the yard to keep the doors and windows locked?" asked Scott.

"The special wards on that stone will fade away within two hours," stated Barnes. "I doubt anyone will find him before Monday. The stone should have little to no magic left in it, and by the time anyone even considers investigating the property, it will just be a simple old rock."

The group then returned to their van and drove back to Marlborough from where they had come.

* * *

LDW-9.4

* * *

 **January 1998**

The two men sat in the pub. Middleton sipped his beer slowly. Barnes was grinning from ear to ear.

Seeing his friend's grin, Middleton asked, "So, I take it that you got approval for your proposal?"

"They were so used to my submitting the various similar proposals in the past that no one bothered to check it for the compulsion charms," replied Barnes with obvious satisfaction. "In fact, we will start training two _more_ teams, so we will have a total of four strike teams with magical leaders."

Middleton raised an eyebrow, "Aren't Smythe and Jonas a little too new at this to start leading a team?"

"Thomas Smythe did quite well for himself at Hogwarts, and he has been working with the division for the past few years," commented Barnes. "William Jonas has a little less experience with the division, but he has good skills with his wand. They'll be starting to train with Team Beta and Team Delta within the next few weeks. Our teams have already been working together for a while, so we may have to work with them as well. Team building exercises, you know."

"But how will we deal with Voldemort and the Death Eaters?"

"You worry too much," stated Barnes. "The best information we have so far is that Potter is still on the run, which means the dark lord and his minions haven't caught him and which also means that the kid has a chance. Maybe not much of one, but they have called him the 'chosen one' in some of the reports. But if there is much more direct attacks against muggles, then we will easily get tasked with using any and all resources to bring them in check."

"That's what this has all been about for you," observed Middleton. "Everything has been leading up to this, this opportunity to fight back."

"MI-5, and now the soon to be established MI-13," proclaimed Barnes, "have given me the opportunity for the revenge that we _both_ want. And MI-5 was happy to recruit a couple of orphans, they do like their agents not having family ties; and they like it when their orphans they recruit have a certain set of skills."

* * *

LDW-9.5

* * *

 **Monday 1 June 1998**

Team Alpha had a successful mission two days prior and they had received a tip from a witch in Knockturn Alley that indicated that Yaxley was hiding out in one of his family's properties in Wales. The problem they initially had was that Yaxley had no listed property in Wales. Barnes knew that there was no way that they could get the information from the goblins even if Gringotts Wizarding Bank knew the location. But Barnes had some contacts within the Ministry of Magic, people he knew who were half bloods or muggle born who had what was considered minor jobs within the ministry. While many of them had lost their positions during the time of the Muggle Born Registration, the ministry was quick to give people their positions back, that is if they had managed to survive the war.

Barnes went to the Office of Magical Deeds. The young witch who was working the desk there was a muggle born who was several years behind him at Hogwarts, and he knew she had lost several family members during the war. Eliza Littlestone was often considered a quiet but skilled witch. Barnes smiled at her as he walked up to the desk she was seated at.

"Could I see the files for Yaxley?"

Eliza looked at the man who was oddly familiar. "The Aurors were here last week looking at those files," she replied.

"I know, I know, but my department head told me to double check to make sure that nothing was missed, what with the new recruits they have in the DMLE now," stated Barnes with a smile.

Eliza furrowed her brow as she looked at him. "Wait, don't I know you from somewhere?"

Barnes hesitated before he answered, "I do special work for the minister. I meet with him on occasion. And there is some added information we need to look at. You wouldn't want someone as evil as Yaxley to slip through the DMLE's hands, now would you?"

"No of course not," Eliza readily agreed. "He dragged me down in front of Umbridge personally when I was brought before the Muggle Born Registration Committee."

"What a dreadful experience that must have been for you to have to go through," nodded Barnes. "So, about those files," he asked once again.

"Oh, sure, anything to help out the Minister and the DMLE," she agreed readily.

Barnes simply smiled and then she stepped away from the counter and went to retrieve the requested files. A couple of minutes later she returned and handed him a large folder. Barnes made a quick look through the documents, and he readily ignored any properties that were obviously homes. He looked to see if Yaxley had any business interests, and it seemed he owned several business properties, including two in the muggle world. He thought to himself that the DMLE probably won't bother to check out anything in a muggle community, assuming that Yaxley wouldn't head to such a place. And that was exactly why Barnes determined that would be where he would go look first. Particularly when he found that there was a small store located in the small city of St. David's in Pembrokeshire. The fact that it was so small and so remote just called out to Barnes that it must be where Yaxley had gone to hide.

Later that afternoon, Team Alpha had arrived in St. David's and were walking down the main street and found the shop in question, St. David's Food and Wine. The five men entered the shop separately, trying not to appear as though they were arriving together. Barnes was the first one in the shop and quickly made his way around and he was sure that Yaxley was not in the store. However, there was also the apartments above the store which were owned by Yaxley, although the deed that the Ministry of Magic had information on was just the store.

Barnes nodded to Mills who was also making his way around the store. Starks had taken one of the bottles of wine from off of a shelf and brought it to the front where he began asking the woman at the counter for more information on the particular vintage. Seeing that she was distracted, Barnes, Mills and then O'Brien made their way to the back door that they had determined would lead to the entrance to the apartments. Once they had stepped into the hallway, they each donned their magic detecting goggles and were able to scan for any traps or wards. The main stairwell had a detection trap, and they were able to easily dismantle that quite quickly. There was a magic detecting charm at the top of the stairs that also was not a problem for the trio to remove.

Barnes then pulled out his wand, and quickly detected that there were two people in the apartment on the other side of the door. He rubbed his chin as he considered his options and then he spoke quietly to Mills and O'Brien, briefly explaining his plan. Standing outside of the door, Barnes kicked in the door to the apartment and jumped through. Two men were sitting at the far side of the room and moved to draw their wands, however, before they could cast any spells Barnes had taken them both out with an overpowered stunner. Then Mills and O'Brien stepped up and pulled out small guns with silencers, and each shot the two men in the head.

Once Barnes was sure that they had killed the two men, he went over and examined the bodies. One was clearly Yaxley, his straight blonde hair was a giveaway. The other man looked familiar to Barnes, who had reviewed files on the various Death Eaters. Albert Runcorn was the man who had been hiding out with Yaxley.

"Well, that's one of the missing Death Eaters," he stated. Then he turned to the two men with him. "I think we've done enough here, we can make our way out of here. We'll head down stairs, then we will leave separately, and meet up again in London, tomorrow afternoon. The next mission should be for Wednesday morning. You already have the details on that one."

Mills was still holding the store clerk in an animated conversation about the various wines, and then he decided to buy a bottle before leaving. By the time he had completed his purchase, the other three men had already left the store.

Two days later, Herbert Burke was opening up the shop that his uncle and his uncle's best friend had opened up over 100 years prior. Borgin and Burke's was known throughout magical Britain as being the shop that could obtain almost anything, for a price, and the legality of what one was looking for was of little consequence, other than potentially affecting said price. Herbert typically only worked on Wednesdays, leaving the rest of the work hours to Mr. Borgin, who would take Wednesdays to travel in his attempts to obtain rare and unusual and typically, dark items. Herbert spent the rest of the week doing the travelling searching for similar items. Due to this unusual but predictable schedule, Barnes knew that there was one day in the week that he needed to arrange for the planned attack.

Mills and Starks accompanied him to the Leaky Cauldron early that morning prior to the start of the typical business day. As Barnes used his wand to get through the barrier and the other two men simply followed, nothing appeared out of the ordinary. As the shops in Diagon Alley had not yet opened, the marketplace was mostly empty in the predawn period. With the minimal sunlight, the few people heading to their shops to begin their long days were just grey shadows in the early morning mist. This suited Barnes and his team just fine. They slowly made their way towards Diagon Alley, not venturing too far from each other. Mills stopped in front of the window to the left of the entrance to Borgin and Burkes. While he was actively inspecting some old book that was on display in the window, he surreptitiously removed a small sphere from his pocket, pressed a button and then let it drop down his leg, catching it briefly on top of his foot before letting it come to rest in a small crevice below the window which he was inspecting.

A few minutes later Starks was walking past the other window and started to have a coughing fit. He bent over near the window as he spasmed with his breathing difficulty. While doing this he reached into a pocket and pulled out a similar orb to what Mills had used, and he then pressed a button on the device, and during his next coughing spasm, placed it under the edge of the window.

Herbert Burke did not pay any attention to the early morning passersby and he opened his shop on time at precisely 7:00 in the morning. There were certain individuals who preferred to do their business with him prior to starting their usual jobs and before many people would be around the market areas so that few if anyone would ever see them arrive at the shop.

Barnes showed up at just a few minutes after 7, and started to engage Mr. Burke in a discussion regarding dragon scales, particularly dragon scales from very young dragons. Burke laughed slightly. "Such an acquisition should not be hard at all," he stated.

Barnes then made his request even more specific. "But do you have dragon scales from the tail of a young Hungarian Horntail? Particularly one that is less than five years of age?"

Burke leaned back as he considered this request. "I have never heard of any use for such a specific dragon scale. Would you mind telling me what they would be useful for, and why another dragon scale might not work as well?"

Barnes smiled slightly and leaned in close to Burke. "Well, I was studying in the eastern reaches of Canada, under a particularly notorious local wizard, by the name of Trudeau, and well," he then paused and stood up and looked around. He glared at Mills and Starks who were now milling about the store. Then he turned back to Burke and whispered, "I better not say anything, you never know who may be listening in on certain conversations, particularly in this day."

Burke nodded, "You never can be too sure, but I assure you that we have the best protections here in my shop. My uncle always prided himself in making sure the customer was not only satisfied, but their confidence is secure on these premises."

Barnes smiled, "I appreciate that, really I do. Oh, and in addition to looking for dragon scales, I was hoping to sell some other items. I have several acromantula eggs, as well as a magical geode, discovered in the Australian Outback."

Burke raised an eyebrow. "I am sorry, sir, but I am not familiar with those items."

"Would you care to take a look?"

Burke tilted his head slightly to his left. "It may be worth a look."

Barnes then slowly pulled out a fist sized rock and three smaller white orbs from within his robes. "The magical geode and the spider eggs. The geode has magical crystals inside of it."

Burke looked back and forth between the objects. Then he looked up at Barnes, "I am not sure that there is a market for any of these items. But perhaps if you would allow me to investigate this geode a little more closely."

Barnes shrugged, "Sure, I don't see any harm in doing that."

Burke nodded slightly. "Would you mind if I took it into my back room to do some tests on it?"

Barnes rubbed his chin, "I don't know, I guess it may be all right. You won't do anything to harm that thing, will you?"

"Of course not," reassured Burke, who then smiled at Barnes, and once he received a nod of permission, he carefully picked up the geode and stepped behind a curtain into a separate room.

Once Burke's back was turned, Barnes signalled the other two men. They placed objects that looked like the spider eggs in several areas around the room. Then they quickly left the store. Barnes picked up the three spider eggs from the counter, rolled them around in his hands until he found a hidden switch on one, then he rolled them under the curtain to the backroom where Burke had gone. He then slowly turned and made his way out of the store. Once he stepped inside a run down looking potions store he reached into the pocket of his robe and found a small device, and pressed a button.

The resulting explosion from Borgin and Burkes from across the street rattled the shelves in the potions shop and Barnes had to grab onto the counter in front of him to stop himself from falling.

The shop keeper for the potions shop came running out from behind the counter. "I always knew those idiots were dealing with dangerous stuff!"

Barnes straightened himself up and looked out into the street. People were running in different directions and several wizards were casting spells to put the flames out in the rubble of what had recently been an infamous shop on Knockturn Alley.

* * *

 **AN: Sorry about this chapter being so late - I actually thought that I had uploaded it previously...**

 **Yes, Barnes and Middleton are the "villains" in this story...**

 **Yes, the Ministry of Magic will begin acting...but in the timeline of things, we are still just one month removed from the Battle of Hogwarts...**

 **(edited 3/2018)**

* * *

Lyrics: © 1979, "Animals", Talking Heads, Fear of Music, written by: David Byrne


	10. Chapter 10 - Tentative Decisions

LDW - 10

 **Tentative Decisions**

" _Now that I can_

 _Release my tensions_

 _Let me make clear_

 _My best intentions_

 _Girls ask and I_

 _define decision_

 _Boys ask and I_

 _describe their function"_

* * *

LDW 10.1

* * *

" _And it's all - Hard Logic - I know_

 _And the girls get lost_

 _And the boys say they're concerned_

 _And they are concerned with these decisions"_

M sat impassively as she reviewed the typed report that was in her hands. Once she had reread it for at least the fifth time, she placed it in front of her. A minute later she slowly crossed her arms in front of her, and then she slowly shook her head.

"You had to go and blow up a well known shop in the magical world? This Borgin and Burke's place, too many questions might be asked in the wake of your actions," she stated calmly.

"Actually, ma'am," explained Barnes, "there will probably be no questions at all. Borgin and Burke are both known to sell incredibly dark and dangerous magical items. It will most likely be chalked up to something going amiss with one of the items they were obtaining for a customer."

M shook her head, "It is just too easy to pass it off like that. Perhaps if you hadn't already caused an explosion in Knockturn Alley to take out Flint, wasn't that man's name Flint? And then you also used an explosion to take out the Weasley family, then maybe this wouldn't be an issue. Not to mention that there were explosives used by Middleton and his team when they went after the remaining Weasley and that harpy. There are just too many similarities."

Barnes frowned before replying, "If we are going to continue Special Ops S-28 all the way to the end, we cannot possibly come up with original ways to take out _every_ family, or every individual."

"Be that as it may," came the terse reply, "you can and will try harder." Then she tossed a muggle newspaper at him, it was a copy of the Western Telegraph. "Turn to page three," she stated.

Barnes raised an eyebrow then noticed that the newspaper was from Western Wales. After turning to page 3 he came across an article about a robbery attempt at the St. David's Food and Wine store that went awry, leaving two men shot to death in an upstairs apartment.

"Well, the muggles at least came up with a nifty little explanation for that one," stated Barnes. "And if the Ministry of Magic never gets wind of this, then we're still ahead of them." After a brief pause, he then asked, "By the way ma'am, how is Middleton doing? And the rest of Team Omega?"

M once again assumed a stone like face before responding. "Somehow, Middleton managed to survive with minor injuries, just as your man O'Brien did. Flanders and Scott, well you know what happened to them. Bushnell is still in the burn ward, and probably will be for a few more weeks. He will have permanent scarring as a result of what happened. Your teams cannot be so reckless in the future."

"That's understood, ma'am," acknowledged Barnes.

* * *

LDW 10.2

* * *

" _And the girls_

 _say they're concerned_

 _And they are_

 _concerned with these decisions"_

Hermione Granger was beginning her search across Australia, and she had started in Sydney, where she had encouraged her parents to set up their new lives with the suggestions she had implanted in their memories.

She was surprised to discover that locating Wendell and Monica Wilkins was not as easy as she had hoped. Her search for her parents was also slowed down due to her distraction in trying to decipher the meaning of the message from Kingsley Shacklebolt. She continued to wonder just what did he mean by 28? If it wasn't a date, then what could it refer to? She decided to spend some of her time in the local magical library trying to research this question. However, so far, she had found no useful information about possible magical properties of the number 28.

* * *

LDW 10.3

* * *

" _Decide, decide - Make up your mind_

 _Decide, decide - I told you what to say_

 _Confuse, confuse - Describe what I found_

 _Confuse, confuse - I told you what to say"_

 **Tuesday 2 June 1998**

Kingsley Shacklebolt was feeling a lot of pressure on how to handle the series of disturbing events. He called in his most trusted advisors: Gawain Robards, the head of the DMLE, Arnold Peasegood, the Director of the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes, and Saul Croaker, the Director of the Department of Mysteries.

Once the conference room was secured, Kingsley stood up at the head of the table and began to pace while he explained his concerns.

"As you may be aware, there have an unusually large number of magical catastrophes occurring recently," he said slowly, "if I may use the term catastrophe loosely enough to include the Azkaban Massacre."

"Some might argue that event wasn't a catastrophe, but a blessing," interjected Robards.

The other men stared at him for his bold statement.

Gawain acted stunned by the reaction. "Hey, I'm just saying that there are a lot of people who sleep safer knowing that those Death Eaters, those very dangerous and psychotic wizards, are all gone. They're not coming back. And, yes, it does make my job easier."

"Are you condoning what happened?" wondered Croaker.

"Not at all," affirmed Robards, "I don't condone vigilantism, but the end result is still a plus for the DMLE, there is no arguing that. And besides," he added with a smile, "we don't get the blame."

"Unless you are ultimately blamed for not protecting the island well enough and for allowing it to happen," pointed out Croaker.

"Are you saying it's my fault?" demanded Robards defensively.

"I'm just saying that there are multiple ways to look at everything," asserted the Unspeakable.

Shacklebolt interrupted the little argument. "Gentlemen, we need to work together here, I am still trying to make a point." Once he had their attention once again, he continued. "We have had several disturbing events. And we do have some idea about who or what is behind these events."

Peasegood sat up straighter. "Then tell us, who is responsible for all of this?"

Kingsley took a deep breath before stating slowly, "I believe it is the muggle government."

"You already brought this up at our staff meeting," pointed out Robards. "What is new now?"

"I am worried that they may be responsible for more than the Azkaban Massacre," said the minister.

"And what other catastrophes are they responsible for?" wondered Peasegood.

Shack nodded a little before answering the question. "I do not have enough information, but I suspect that whoever carried out the attack on Azkaban is also responsible for the attack against the Parkinsons, the attack against the Weasley family, first at the Burrow and then the attack that killed their sole surviving son, William, and the attack at Borgin and Burkes. Plus there is the unusual circumstances of the deaths of Marcus Flint and his father."

The three men were obviously upset by several of the accusations that had just been levied against the Muggle Government, in addition to the implication that what appeared to be tragic accidents may have been deliberately planned.

Saul Croaker put a finger to his lips, tapped it several times, before he voiced his concerns. "Taking a look at all of these events, my first question is why would someone attack Arthur Weasley and his family? Unless it was Death Eaters, or blood purists who hate the idea that a family labeled as blood traitors such as the Weasleys, that they actually won the war. But that would have necessitated a very elaborate plan to make that explosion look like an accident if it was, in fact, a deliberate and deadly attack."

"Your theory falls flat on this notion that whomever would have attacked Azkaban would have also need to have had a vendetta against the Weasley Family," agreed Peasegood. "Unless of course, the vendetta is against the entire magical world, and those were some of the easiest targets."

"I can't find any fault with their arguments, minister," stated Robards in support of the other two wizards. "So, are you suggesting that the muggle government is systematically taking out all wizards?"

"While it is true that _we_ see a difference in those families," acknowledged Shacklebolt, "however, to an outsider, to someone who is not familiar with magic, maybe all they see is that the Weasleys were a pure blooded family, just like those who were in Azkaban, just like the followers of Tom Riddle."

"I think that sounds like a bit of a stretch," said Peasegood.

Croaker shook his head slightly and then he called attention to himself. "Now, Arnold, hold on and listen up for a moment. There could be a possible explanation here, but one that I would agree does not make much sense."

The others all turned to face the Unspeakable.

"The Weasley family was listed as one of the Sacred 28. Now granted, they have little in common with the majority of the other families in that group," offered Saul.

Robards shook his head. "But that doesn't make a whole lot of sense, as many of those in Azkaban were not in the Sacred 28."

"No, but those who were in Azkaban, they were _all_ supporters of Riddle, and they were the ones _directly_ responsible for the attacks on the muggles," argued Croaker. "And to the point that was made by the minister, there is the fact that to a muggle, all these families are alike. They know nothing about light and dark magic, light and dark families."

Peasegood looked at the other men and rubbed his chin. "All of those arguments may have some validity, but what really matters, and the advice that I think our minister is looking for, is what exactly are _we_ going to do about it?"

"We can tell them we won't stand for their interference in our world!" proclaimed Robards.

Croaker laughed at that comment, much to Robards' indignation. "What are we really going to do about this? If it is all due to the muggle government, are we going to force them to change what they're doing? Are we really going to insist that they cease and desist killing our families, our friends?"

"Why not? We have magic on our side," boasted Robards.

"Do you want to bring back the days of the witch hunts?" asked Peasegood, catching on to what Croaker was getting at with his comments.

Robards retorted, "Haven't they already brought them back if these attacks are all due to the muggle government?"

Kingsley tapped his knuckles on the edge of the table to get the attention of his three advisors once again. "We cannot risk an all out war with the muggles. While we may have certain advantages, it is clear that we could not survive for long. There is just too many of them and they have technology, technology that even seems magical as most people in our society would have no idea how it works. The simple fact is that this does not make much sense, particularly considering what I know of the PM, and his cabinet. I did work with them last year."

"Are you suggesting that we just let them walk all over us?" wondered Robards.

"No, not at all, but we need to think this through. We need a strategy to respond to what is happening, we need a strategy to protect our people," stated the minister.

"Do we just tell everyone that the muggles are attacking us? That would be suicide! It would create a panic among our people, it would lead to all out war, whether we like it or not," observed Croaker. "And as you said, that would prove to be disastrous for us."

"I think that we do need to tread carefully, very carefully," agreed Peasegood, "but while we don't want to panic the witches and wizards throughout the country, we cannot just sit idly by."

Robards added in his frustration, "Perhaps you need to meet with them again. Make it clear that we will not tolerate these actions. Start negotiations with them. Or there will be retaliation. One way or another, there will be."

Kingsley rubbed his tired eyes for a moment and then he looked towards the head of the Unspeakables. "The actions of the muggles do not make any sense. As I said, I know Tony Blair, I helped guard him from Death Eater attacks when the second wizarding war started in earnest last year."

Saul Croaker tilted his head slightly. "So, what is your point, or rather your question?"

"I don't know if this would be possible, as I thought that they used some protections against magic," began Kingsley slowly, as he was searching for the words to express his thoughts, "but is there a way they, the Prime Minister and his cabinet, could have been influenced, say through something like the imperius curse, or affected by compulsion charms?"

Saul Croaker shifted back and forth for a moment, then he added thoughtfully, "It would probably be quite difficult but it may well be plausible. You say that there are wizards working for the government, that are leading these attacks. What do we know about them? What skills do they have? If they did use such coercion that would be a violation of _our_ laws and muggle law as well."

Peasegood then interrupted their conversation, "Even if it is true, what do we, what does our Minister for Magic do about this? What can he do about it?"

Shack turned back to Croaker. "Would a spell such as finite incantatem be useful in reversing such a spell or compulsion? Would it work on someone who has been imperiused?"

Croaker raised an eyebrow and then answered the minister, "I will have a plan for you by tomorrow morning. Can you arrange a followup meeting with the Prime Minister?"

"I can try," stated Kingsley, "however I am not sure just how quickly I can arrange for such a meeting."

Robards finally added, "The sooner the better, as I don't think we can afford for this situation to continue."

* * *

LDW 10.4

* * *

" _I wanna talk - I wanna talk as much as I want_

 _I'm gonna give - I'm gonna give the problem to you"_

Barnes and Middleton sat down to review the list of 'dangerous' magicals with M once again, who is joined also by Secretary of State for the Home Department, Jack Straw.

M began the meeting simply by telling Barnes to go over what exactly they had already completed. "Please review which families are still left, and what is your current priority for targets."

Barnes nodded to both M and to Straw, before he explained, "Burke was recently dealt with, and as most of that family had not survived the recent magical wars, there was only one left. And as I said, he was dealt with. Next, we have Yaxley, who was eliminated, his family had already been wiped out." He then indicated to the first report in the folder which Middleton had just passed out to everyone. "Runcorn, while not a member of the Sacred 28, was a known Death Eater on the run and he was taken out as well. He was hiding with Yaxley in the middle of a muggle area in Osborne St. Andrew."

He took a deep breath before he continued. "That leaves only 14 families: the Abbots, the Blacks, the Bulstrodes, the Carrow twins, who are now of age, the Fawleys, the Greengrass family, the Longbottoms, the Macmillans, the Malfoys, young Mr. Nott, the Ollivanders, the Shacklebolts, and then there is Shafiq and finally Slughorn."

"Plus we still have to deal with Harry Potter," added Middleton, "who is a Black, as mentioned in a previous meeting."

M reviewed the lists in the folder and then looked at Barnes. "Some these are more light sided families, if I recall your brief history of the divisions among magical people."

Straw closed the folder in front of him and looked at Barnes, "Does anyone in the magical world know who is being targeted?"

"Their minister does," was the quick reply from Barnes. "But his communications are being closely monitored, he has not had a chance to warn people, other than telling his cabinet, or the equivalent, that the remaining Death Eaters are targets."

Straw nodded solemnly. "So, then, who will you go after next?"

M then added an observation as she also closed the folder in front of her. "The more targets that are hit, the more difficult it will be to find them, they will all become more wary."

"I don't foresee that being too much of a problem," argued Barnes.

Straw reiterated his question. "So, again, who is next?"

Barnes took a deep breath before he replied. "They will be more confused if we go after a more 'light sided' target. Perhaps this Longbottom family; there are only four survivors, two of whom are completely incapacitated and are for all intents and purposes they are already eliminated. That leaves the young heir, a Neville Longbottom, and his elderly grandmother."

M frowned at the suggestion before commenting, "That doesn't sound like too much of a problem, although the attack of an elderly woman and a teen might lead to too many questions."

Barnes then added, "We will wait until after the Summer Solstice. The Ministry of Magic will be sponsoring a major event. We can go to the party, everyone will be there, we can possibly tag some of the individuals we need so as to be able to track them later."

Straw nodded then looked to M. "Do keep me informed on the progress of this mission." Then he turned to Barnes and Middleton. "You two, keep this operation clean. Nothing to come back to any of us. It is nasty business, after all, even if it for the protection of the rest of Britain."

* * *

LDW 10.5

* * *

Kingsley Shacklebolt was not happy. He had been rebuffed in his quest for a new meeting with the Prime Minister. Apparently he was out of the country on business, apparently meeting with other European leaders on the question of whether or not the United Kingdom should adopt the Euro, or stay with the British Pound Sterling as the currency. The idea of each separate country having their own currency was mind boggling to wizards, but that may have been secondary to the world wide control of magical banks by goblins for generations and everyone using the same currency.

Regardless of the reason, Shacklebolt's efforts to meet with the Prime Minister and his cabinet continued to be delayed. The one advantage was that this development gave Croaker more time to come up with a plan to respond if there was indeed evidence of some sort of compulsion affecting the British government leaders. He just hoped that there would be no more events that would require their intervention or response. It had already become a very bloody month after the Dark Lord Voldemort had been defeated, and so far his term as Minister for Magic was marred by continued tragic events, and a feeling of being powerless.

Kingsley sat in his office, taking time before his next appointment, to consider what was happening to magical Britain. They had just survived a civil war of sorts, which culminated in a dangerous and costly battle at the beginning of May that saw the deaths of many people on both sides, and significant damage to the icon of the magical Britain as the battle was fought at Hogwarts.

His people were not prepared for another war. But with so many deaths, it was looking like there was a war brewing between the muggles and magicals, all being lead apparently by some disgruntled muggle born wizards. He had to find a way to protect the witches and wizards and at the same time avoid an all out war with the muggles.

And now he had to deal with the upcoming festival, as certain members of the wizarding society had been planning on reinstating the Summer Solstice party which had not been held for over 50 years. As long as they could keep the event safe, it just might be something that would help with healing much of the pain that people on both sides of the recent war were all feeling.

* * *

LDW 10.6

* * *

 **Friday 5 June 1998**

Seated at one end of an ornate dining table sat a wizard as he was finishing his breakfast and reading the latest edition of the Daily Prophet. His hair was starting to speckle with a little grey, which only added to his dignified look. He raised an eyebrow as he read of the upcoming plans for the Summer Solstice party being planned by the Ministry of Magic. As he continued through the paper, however, his look did not remain quite so dignified.

Reading about the discovery of more deaths within the magical world, of how Yaxley and Runcorn were found murdered by muggles in a remote muggle community. This small article clearly relegated to being a minor report was at first surprising to the magical business man. Yes, he knew Yaxley, not that he chose to have any dealing with him or any of the Death Eaters. The Greengrass family has always been known as a grey family, which actually helped him and his father and previous generations establish their import business. While he had been pressured during both wars to side with the Death Eaters, he had managed to avoid a direct involvement. He felt sick when he considered that he had allowed himself to being coerced into certain business dealings that were beneficial to the Death Eaters, but he chose to allow a certain loss in profits to be able to maintain his family's status as not being marked and directly linked to the crazed fanatics that were supporting the recent Dark Lord.

His wife came into the dining area and sat down at the other end of the table, and a house elf appeared, bringing her a cup of tea and a plate of fresh fruit. She looked up at her husband and quickly discerned his distress.

"Cyrus, please tell me that you're not already fretting over financial meetings this early in the morning," she commented lightly, trying to ease his mood.

Throwing the newspaper on the table beside him, he took a deep breath before he spoke. "I don't know what kind of idiots we have running the ministry, or running this damned newspaper, but clearly there are wizards and witches who can't see the forest for the trees."

Isabella Greengrass sighed before responding to her husband. "And what forest are they missing this time?"

He pointed at the newspaper as he began to explain. "Something fishy, something dangerous is going on in our world, and everyone seems to want to ignore it, probably due to the aftermath of the recent battle and the upheaval in a government over the past couple of years."

Isabella did not say anything, but simply waited for her husband to finish his explanation and his rant.

"There was a brief article about Yaxley being murdered by muggles," he went on to explain. He waited a moment but got no reply from his wife, so he then continued. "Yaxley, the muggle hating bastard who oversaw so many muggle borns being killed or tortured or worse. Yaxley was a prime supporter of He Who Must Be Named, and he fled the Battle at Hogwarts, from what I have overheard. But for him to be killed by muggles? I don't believe he would have ever let that happen."

"If he was hiding from the ministry, how would we know what happened?" questioned Isabella.

"That's not the point, and the article reports that their information came from muggle sources," pointed out Cyrus. "No, the issue is that this is just another mysterious death, all occurring since the Dark Lord was defeated at Hogwarts."

"Well, there was the Azkaban Massacre," offered his wife, recalling the outrage a couple of weeks ago that many people in the magical world had when they heard of the slaughter of so many. And while most people in the magical world did not particularly care for many who were locked up, reading the account of how some vigilante group went through Azkaban and summarily killed them all was disturbing and upsetting to almost everyone.

"But there wasn't just the Azkaban Massacre," corrected his husband. "First there was the tragedy with the Weasley family. Then there was Marcus Flint, supposedly dying in an explosion from playing with Merlin knows what in that room in Knockturn Alley. Then there was Flint senior, dying mysteriously in his home, and the last remaining Weasley boy, who apparently had his home razed, and his wife disappeared after that attack. Then Burke died in another explosion at his shop. There is just too many sudden and unexplained deaths for this all to be merely coincidence."

"Now you're formulating conspiracy theories," argued his wife.

"Who's formulating conspiracy theories?" asked their daughter Daphne as she walked into the dining room and took a seat at the middle of the table.

"Your father is, honey," stated Isabella. "He is trying to link all the various deaths and accidents together since the end of the war."

Daphne raised an eyebrow at her mother's words and then turned to look at her father, and his face was calm but had a determined look. She then turned to the plate of fruit that had appeared in front of her and as she picked up a slice of an orange she proclaimed calmly, "It probably all has to do with Potter, he was always in the middle of everything back at school."

Cyrus raised an eyebrow at his daughter's words, but her mother dropped her fork not he table and scolded her. "That's not nice to blame a young man like him for all that has been going on. He did defeat He Who Must Not Be Named and ended the recent war."

Daphne rolled her eyes at her mother's comment. "Potter always was in the middle of everything. In our first year, he kept getting into trouble but never got punished. He was named seeker for the Gryffindor Quidditch team that year after breaking the rules and flying a broom when everyone was told not to. He broke rules, was out after curfew, caused a professor to die and somehow was awarded bonus house points at the end of our first year so that the bloody lions won the house cup that year. Then when we were second years, he was apparently the Heir of Slytherin, was linked to multiple students getting petrified, and eventually was involved in Professor Lockhart's injuries causing him to be admitted to St. Mungo's long term care ward, and he was then mysteriously awarded bonus house points. During our third year he was attacked by dementors on multiple occasions, was rumoured to have aided in Sirius Black's escape from the ministry's clutches and supposedly could cast a corporeal patronus by the end of the school year." She huffed audibly at that point.

Before her parents could interrupt, she continued her diatribe against the one known as the Boy Who Lived. "Then, as a fourth year, somehow he gets his name entered into the Triwizard Tournament, claims it was a set up, then he goes on to win the bloody cup, while the real Hogwarts champion was killed and he claimed that You Know Who had returned."

"But Potter was proven right, You Know Who HAD returned, despite the Minister for Magic's attempts at discrediting the young man, and Dumbledore as well," pointed out her father.

"But that's not the point," argued Daphne. "The point is that he always finds himself in the middle of everything. He has to have the attention, he has to get special rules. Even in fifth year, when that horrid toad of a woman Umbridge was after him, he still managed to find a way to leave school with a group of friends, break in to the Ministry of Magic after hours, and still not get punished."

"If I recall," stated her father calmly, "that was the night that it was proven that the Dark Lord had indeed returned, and he was supposedly tricked into going there to rescue somebody."

Daphne continued with her rant, "But that's just it, he always has some sort of excuse. He gets away with everything."

"The young man was on the run for most of the past year with He Who Must Not Be Named having anyone who worked for him keeping an eye out for him, and he finally defeated the Dark Lord in a duel, in front of many people at Hogwarts," stated her mother.

"I know, I know, I know," replied Daphne. "Can't you see? If Potter was involved in everything during the past seven years, how could he not somehow be involved in this?"

"Are you suggesting that he is somehow responsible for all of these deaths?" asked her father.

"No, no, at least I don't think so," Daphne replied with her voice growing softer.

"Did you even know him at school?" asked her mother.

"Everyone knew _of_ him," answered Daphne. "All that we knew about him in Slytherin was what Malfoy would tell us."

"Doesn't sound like a very reliable source to me," countered her father.

"Malfoy was always in Potter's face," continued Daphne, ignoring her father's quip. "They would get into it, something about Malfoy being offended by Potter on the train as first years. And Potter always hung out with that idiot and pig, Weasley, and the bookworm and know it all muggle born, Granger. Nobody else was allowed to get close to him. Not until fifth year when he opened up his circle of friends, including the nearly squib Longbottom, the flaky Loony Lovegood and the Weasley brat, the younger sister in that family."

"First of all, from what I heard about how he handed himself at that battle at Hogwarts," commented her father, "the Longbottom heir does not sound like being 'nearly a squib.' He apparently did quite well in all of that. Secondly, Miss Lovegood may be strange, but I knew her parents when they were younger. While her dad is quite eccentric, her mother was rumoured to have seer abilities, and her death must have affected her quite a bit."

Isabella eyed her daughter carefully, assessing her emotional reaction to all of this. She decided to not voice her observations, less she irritate her daughter more. "All in all," she did say, "this Harry Potter seems to be both magically powerful and quite fortunate to be able to come out on top of so many of those trials and hardships."

"So, from what I have learned from you about this young Mister Potter," added Cyrus, "I would guess that it won't be long at all before he is embroiled in the middle of all of this." He then took a deep breath before continuing, "But I am still concerned about what the ministry is _not_ telling us about all of these deaths. I fear they may be linked. And rumours are that somehow muggles are involved in what is going on. Perhaps we should be more prepared in case of either magical or muggle attack on our home," he suggested.

"What? Here? Who would attack us here?" wondered a surprised Isabella. "And why us? We haven't taken sides on any of these conflicts."

Cyrus stretched his shoulders back before responding to his wife. "The Weasley family was considered blood traitors by the Death Eaters, they were definitely on the side of the Light. They had nothing in common with those who were executed at Azkaban. If there is a connection between all of these deaths, we need to be wary, for it goes beyond which side of the last war people fought on."

Daphne considered her father's words, and considered everything she had just reviewed about Potter to her parents. As she contemplated taking another bite of fruit, she wondered what it was about him that made her react so emotionally, as it wasn't as though they had any real interactions beyond running into each other at Gringotts a few weeks ago. And all she really recalled about that encounter was his vivid green eyes and his smile. Daphne shivered slightly as she tried to get the image of Harry Potter out of her mind. He was a bloody Gryffindor after all, and trouble followed him everywhere he went.

* * *

LDW 10.7

* * *

Summer Solstice Party

 **Sunday 21 June 1998**

Sunset at 9:21 PM

Witches and Wizards had been gathering at the Ministry Ballroom throughout the evening, as the official start of the Summer Solstice Party was scheduled to coincide with the time of the setting of the sun, at 21 minutes past 9 o'clock. The Ministry of Magic had described the event as one to celebrate the first year without war and threats to their community in many years.

Harry Potter was being hailed as the guest of honour, as he had defeated the Dark Lord Voldemort. Harry had hoped to be able to stay inconspicuous for the evening, but with how the ministry had been promoting the event, he was fairly certain he would not be able to just hide in the shadows. At least he knew that Neville and many of his other friends from Hogwarts would all be there. Harry had arrived early so that there would be less of a spectacle made upon his entrance into the ball.

He quickly found Neville and the two of them were standing to one side, drinking punch and chatting quietly, both trying to avoid the attention of the crowds.

Draco Malfoy walked by, noticed the two Gryffindors who were alone, and slowly he made his way over to them.

He gave a curt nod towards Neville before turning towards Harry.

Draco tried to smile, but it looked more like a grimace on his thin face. "Potter, I just wanted to say thanks; thanks for getting me out of the Room of Requirement."

Harry considered making a snide comment about not needing to rescue him at all if he hadn't have shown up and particularly if Crabbe hadn't been such an idiot by casting the Fiendfyre spell, but instead he just nodded in reply. "Don't mention it, Malfoy," he stated quietly, in perhaps the most civil tones he had ever used towards Draco.

Behind Draco came Narcissa, who also approached Harry.

"Lord Potter, it is Lord Potter now, is it not?" she began. "Thank you for saving my son that night of the battle."

Harry bowed and replied formally, "Thank you, Lady Malfoy, for not giving me away to Tom Riddle in that clearing that same night."

She nodded curtly before adding, "I have heard that you are the new Lord Black. My cousin Sirius did pick a worthy heir, let's leave it at that."

Harry was unsure of how to react, but Narcissa and Draco turned and walked away. Neville stared at Harry after they had left.

"Wow, Harry," stated a surprised Neville, "I've never seen either one of those two thank anyone for anything." He took a sip of his punch before adding, "Most impressive. If that's how the rest of this night is going to go, you'll be Minister for Magic before you're twenty!"

"The times are changing, Nev," replied Harry shaking his head slightly, "the times are changing. And not with me ever becoming minister. But Malfoy was polite, apologised and spoke respectfully. Never thought I would ever see something like that in my entire life."

A few minutes later, Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan came by to speak to the two of them. After pleasantries, Seamus commented that he was thirsty, so Harry joined them as they made their way over to the refreshments table and Harry's cup was empty.

Neville said he would catch up with them in a minute. He was alone for only a moment, before Hannah Abbot came up to speak with him.

"Hey there, Neville, how are you doing?"

Neville's face started to turn red as he looked at the pretty witch. "Oh, um, hi, Hannah, um, I'm okay, I've been doing fine."

Hannah partially blocked his escape to catch up with the other Gryffindors by positioning herself in the direct path between Neville and the refreshment table.

"So, I just wanted to say thank you Neville," she began shyly, "for everything you did, what with leading the little rebellion during the past year, arranging protection and safety for so many students, and then putting yourself at risk."

Neville blushed even redder. "It was nothing," he stated quietly.

"It wasn't nothing Neville," insisted Hannah, her voice becoming more confident as she spoke with him. "You proved you were a true Gryffindor, and you proved your strength. I have no idea how many times we heard stories of you being punished by Crabbe and Goyle, or even by the Carrows. All so that you could protect other students."

Neville shook his head and stared at his shoes. "It's nothing Harry wouldn't have done."

Hannah persisted and corrected him. "But _Harry_ wasn't there, you were. Harry was off doing what Harry had to do. No one told you to do what you did, you just did it."

Neville looked up at her, and dared to look her in the eyes, "But it was the right thing to do."

"Of course it was," she agreed with a smile, "but it wasn't the easy thing to do. I can't think of another person in our year who could have done it."

Neville blushed again.

Hannah then added, "Want to go get something to eat or drink?"

Neville smiled at her, "Sure, that would be great."

As they made their way to the food, Harry saw Hannah and Neville walking together. Harry caught Neville's eye and gave him a big smile and a thumbs up. He then decided to make his way over to another group of students who were in the DA back in school. As he was walking across the hall he kept looking over at Neville who was actually spending time with a pretty witch, when he suddenly collided with someone. He heard a woman's voice squeal as he stumbled backwards. He looked where the squeal came from and saw the blonde hair of Daphne Greengrass splayed around her face while she was now sitting on the floor, apparently having just been knocked backwards by their collision.

Slowly she reached up and brushed her hair to one side and Harry simply stared at her sparkling blue eyes, his mouth open as he was stunned by how beautiful she looked.

"You're going to catch flies, Potter," she snapped.

Harry stammered a moment then stepped forward to try and help her up.

The blonde took the offered hand and after standing up she immediately straightened out her dress. "The world does not revolve around you, Potter, you really need to pay attention to where you are going," she said icily.

"Oh, yeah, you're right," apologised Harry, "I'm sorry, Greengrass, isn't it?"

"Of course it's Greengrass," snapped Daphne. She paused and glared at him, "Still making yourself the centre of everything, aren't you Potter."

She shook her head and then turned to leave, walking to the far side of the hall. Harry watched her walk away until she joined up with Tracey Davis, or at least that was who he thought she was talking with, he did recall those two were nigh inseparable back when he was at Hogwarts.

As Harry was about to turn and head to the group of students he had set out to meet, the Minister for Magic walked up to Harry. "There you are, young sir, I hope you are enjoying yourself. The dancing shall begin shortly," stated Kingsley.

"Oh, that's great, Minister," replied Harry, not wanting to sound too familiar with Kingsley in the middle of the ministry sponsored party.

Kingsley frowned slightly, "You don't seem so excited about it all."

Harry sighed momentarily then stated, "To tell you the truth, Minister, I haven't really been to a dance since the Yule Ball during the tournament."

Minister Shacklebolt smiled at him. "Have no fear, Harry, I'm sure all of the beautiful young witches would still want to dance with you."

Harry's eyes opened a little wider, "Yeah, that's what I am afraid of, sir."

On the other side of the room, Tracey Davis commented to her best friend, Daphne Greengrass, "So, you're talking to him, even more now."

Daphne felt confused, "What are you on about?"

Tracey simply smiled more broadly. "Potter, Harry Potter, I saw you talking to him on your way over here, and you said you spoke with him last month at Gringotts."

Daphne scoffed. "I chastised him at Gringotts. He was there when they closed the bank for a few days, he was probably responsible somehow for that inconvenience."

Tracey leered at her friend, "So what, he's handsome and you seem to have your eye on him."

Daphne shook her head and glared at Tracey. "Bugger off, I do not."

She turned to Blaise Zambini who had joined them, "Methinks she doth protest too much."

Daphne snapped back with the same air of irritation, "Methinks you're not as good of a friend as you think you are."

At that time the music started to play and several couples made their way out to the dance floor.

Then there was a hush over the crowd as all eyes turned to stare at someone who had just walked in to the ballroom. There was a witch in a beautiful light blue robe, which was almost sheer in places. Her hair was a silvery blonde, her eyes were radiating blue, and she strode gracefully into the hall, aware that she was now quickly becoming the centre of attention. She scanned the crowds and her eyes settled on one young man with green eyes and she then made her way directly towards him.

The beautiful witch stopped directly across from Harry and held out her hand. Harry shook himself slightly and nodded, then he took her hand and joined her on the dance floor. Once they were dancing, he whispered into her ear.

"Fleur, you really shouldn't have come here tonight," he warned her quietly. "Whomever attacked you will now know for sure that you survived, you'll be a target once again."

Fleur clicked her tongue and then replied, "I will not stay holed up in your house, hiding from the world. Let them know I survived. Let them come at me. I will be ready. _We_ will be ready. Perhaps we can soon find out who is behind all of this."

Harry ignored the stares from around the room, as they continued to dance and he whispered back in her ear, "You're playing a very dangerous game, one that I don't think is a good one. No, not good at all."

Fleur restrained a hiss in response, "It is my choice, Harry. Besides, don't you like everyone staring at you right now?"

Harry shook his head slightly, "One, they're all staring at you. Two, I never liked people staring at me, I have always despised my fame and the attention it draws."

Fleur smiled at Harry's response. "To be fair Harry, while the men may be staring at me, some are staring at you, they are angry that you are with me. However, the women are staring at you because they are envious that you are with someone they cannot begin to compare to, or just because you are dancing with anyone other than themselves."

Harry dismissed her comments with a laugh. "I doubt that very much."

Fleur winced slightly as Harry stepped on her toes, but they kept their dance movements slow and graceful. Harry decided to stop arguing with her. And he just continued to enjoy the dance, and try not to hurt her feet anymore.

Over on the side of the hall, several young people, like the rest of the hall, were watching the young couple dance in the middle of the room. "I guess you missed your chance, Daphne," stated Tracey.

Daphne snorted, "Tracey, you don't know anything that you're talking about."

Elsewhere in the ballroom, two men stayed mostly in the shadows at the edge of the crowds. They also avoided any contact with each other. Barnes and Middleton had come dressed in simple but expensive looking robes, expecting that they should be able to blend in. Once they had arrived, they cast notice me not charms on each other and then they began their mission.

They had previously learned of the location of the ball, and had hidden some of their special equipment in the ceiling above one of the bathrooms. After they made it past the Auror security they separately went to the place where their equipment was previously stashed, and then they left with the small devices hidden within their robes.

Barnes had a list of names he had committed to memory, as did Middleton. Slowly they made their way around the revellers, looking for various individuals.

Barnes saw Neville Longbottom dancing with a young witch, and he carefully pointed his miniature gun at Neville and pulled the trigger. A minuscule dart struck him on the sleeve of his robe, and Neville simply thought that he had bumped into someone.

Barnes then made his way around the edge of the hall, and he noticed the young Malfoy off by himself. He knew it would be more difficult if the target was just standing still, not engaged in any particular activity, not even speaking with others, so he decided he would have to wait on that one. The youngest Nott was not obviously present, but the Macmillan family had shown up. He was having a conversation with several other young men when Barnes was able to tag him just as he had done with Longbottom.

"It's just like shooting fish in a barrel," he thought to himself.

He continued to search the crowds, but he saw no evidence of either Ollivander or Shafiq, and the Minister for Magic was not needed to be tagged at this time.

Horace Slughorn, however, was a hard man to miss. He had a large crowd gathered around him, many of them were former students, as he regaled them all with stories of his former students. There were too many people around the former potions professor for Barnes to feel he had a decent shot.

Middleton noted the Bulstrodes as well as the Greengrasses, two families on his list. He managed to tag Lord Greengrass with one of the special micro darts and he managed to get a tag on one of the Bulstrodes.

Then he saw Hannah Abbot leave the dance floor after dancing with Neville Longbottom. He had to wait for her to move to the side and noticed she had gone to speak privately with her friend, Susan Bones. Middleton knew of the Bones family, he knew that the young woman, Susan, was the last of her family, but they were not a part of the Sacred 28. Patiently he waited and finally he had an opening to tag the young lady, Hannah Abbot.

Then Middleton searched the crowd for Andromeda Tonks, but he was not able to find her. One of the few remaining Black family members was nowhere to be seen this evening, despite the gala being thrown by the ministry.

Barnes then found the Carrow twins, who had arrived with an aunt, and he managed to tag one of the two teenaged witches.

They had been instructed to try and tag Potter if possible, but neither one felt they had an opportunity for a clear shot.

After Harry had finished dancing with Fleur Delacour Weasley, Harry was making his way to the refreshments once again, when Middleton thought he had a clear shot. He readied his special dart gun, however, as he was about to pull the trigger, an Auror noticed something unusual and quickly cast a stunner at the man in the back holding some sort of muggle appearing weapon. Middleton was dropped on the spot by the stunner which came from his left side, as he was concentrating on marking Harry Potter.

People screamed as a body dropped to the floor after the flash of red from the stunning spell.

Barnes saw it all happening from where he was standing. Many people ran away from where the man was stunned, but some people tried to get closer to gawk at what was happening.

Harry spun around and immediately moved to Fleur's side, hoping to protect her from what he assumed to be was an attack against her.

Barnes quickly realised that they could be in big trouble if Middleton was actually captured. He pulled out another item from within his robes, and he pointed it at the motionless body of his partner. Pressing among people in the crowd, his arm was hidden as he used his special wand to fire a specially designed spell, which was essentially an automatic port-key. Once the spell hit the body it shimmered briefly and then disappeared with a pop.

The ray of light from the special wand was barely perceptible and several people in the surrounding crowd just started to scream in panic once again as they witnessed the body disappear. More Aurors had arrived and they were startled to have the body they were about to investigate suddenly vanish in front of them. The most alert of the members of the DMLE providing security quickly began to search the crowds for signs of who might be responsible.

Barnes made his way backwards through the crowds and tried to head towards some sort of exit for his own escape. However, the Aurors were making all of the exits unreachable, and Barnes sensed anti-apparition wards arise around the hall.

He then made his way to the bathrooms once again. He managed to lock the door behind him and jump up to grab some more equipment in the ceiling. He had his special magic detecting goggles which showed that the anti-apparation wards were just at the ceiling above him. He quickly cast a blasting hex to make a hole in the ceiling. Then he stood on top of a damaged ceiling tile that he placed directly under the hole. He cast a levitation charm on the tile he was standing on just as an overpowered blasting hex destroyed the locked door.

Barnes was needing to balance himself carefully as the tile rose with him standing on it. The shockwave from the destroyed door nearly caused him to fall, and he slammed his shoulder into the edge of the hole in the ceiling as he passed by on his way above the wards.

Once he made it through the opening, he grabbed his emergency port-key as he was shooting upwards, and his body disappeared just as several spells shot through the air where he had previously been, the tile he had been riding as a make shift flying saucer or lift was now splinters that were floating slowly to the floor through the even larger hole made in the ceiling as a result of the spells that had been fired towards the escaping wizard.

* * *

 **AN: So, here is the next chapter, posted quickly after the last one...**

 **And I have a sort of cling hanger at this point...I do not expect the next upload to be so long delayed as between Chapter 8 and Chapter 9...**

 **(edited March 2018)**

* * *

Lyrics: © 1977, "Tentative Decisions", Talking Heads, Talking Heads '77, written by: David Byrne


	11. Chapter 11 - I Get WildWild Gravity

**I Get Wild/Wild Gravity**

 _I get wild, wizing up_

 _I just can't let go_

 _I get wild when I get ready_

 _I can hardly talk_

 _Living lights_

 _Special lights_

 _Yellow turns blue_

 _I get wild It's automatic_

 _I can hardly move_

* * *

LDW 11.1

* * *

 _I get up climbing out_

 _How did I get home?_

 _I'll survive the situation_

 _Somebody shut the door_

 _Beautiful_

 _Beautiful_

 _Climbing up the wall_

 _I get by on automatic_

 _No surprise at all_

Andrew Middleton's inanimate body appeared on the floor of a nondescript room. No one was present, the room was dark and silent.

Regis Barnes apparated away from the ministry ball as soon as his body had cleared the wards. He arrived in the middle of a flat in London. As he had been moving upwards when he apparated, his body slammed into the ceiling and he then crashed to the floor. He cursed his foolishness in trying to apparate while moving as his knees and shoulder were aching from the sudden stop to his motion. Barnes was worried that the Aurors might have a way to track his apparating, so he rubbed his shoulder for a moment before he apparated once again. This time he arrived in the middle of a park, in an open clearing, and briefly sighed in relief that he was not moving as he made this latest spatial jump. Taking a deep breath, he then apparated to middle of an open warehouse, followed by apparating to an abandoned factory, and then back to the same park he had arrived at earlier, but this time at the far end from where he had arrived the first time. He was starting to feel weak from the rapid succession of magic use, and then he ran, as fast as his bruised knees would carry him, from the park to where he was able to hail a taxi to drive him to the other side of the city.

Barnes appreciated the opportunity to rest as he rode silently in the back of the cab. Once he exited the car, he then walked another couple of blocks before he apparated himself to the safe house, where the still immobile form of Middleton was lying in the middle of the floor. Barnes then revived Middleton, helped the other man up on to a nearby seat and then offered him a pepper up potion. Regis then drank one himself, and sat down across from his friend.

"Let's not have to do that ever again," he said to Andrew.

Middleton just nodded, "I was simply stunned and revived, I take it you had to go though the entire planned escape route."

Barnes laughed slightly at the comment. "Of course, but that was after I had to engineer a way to escape from the building myself, which is a story for later."

Then he stood up and stretched before adding, "We better head back to HQ soon, we ought to fill in the head lady on everything that happened so far."

Ten minutes later Barnes and Middleton found themselves sitting in a conference room at the newly designated MI-13 main office, all alone, waiting for M to arrive. It was a further ten more minutes before the stern director arrived at the conference room.

"I am sure you both understand that I am less than pleased that you two were discovered," began the woman who was their boss. "I anticipate that I will be hearing from the PM himself shortly, as their minister, Shacklebolt, is sure to be contacting him straight away."

There was a heavy silence in the room before she continued. "Now, I suppose that you two have already reviewed things with Q division. Is there any chance that the trackers which were placed on the various individuals will be detected?"

Barnes replied to the question, "Well, ma'am, there should be no reason for the magicals to be even searching for the tracking runes we placed on their robes."

M raised an eyebrow, "And can you explain, once again, just why these tracking devices on their robes, and not on their persons, is a good idea?"

Middleton gave Barnes a look before he answered the question, which they had assumed had previously been addressed. "They're wizards, they don't think like muggles. They don't rent a tuxedo for a fancy gala like some aristocrat might, but then again, people who are rich enough probably don't rent tuxedoes either. They own their fancy dress robes. They will assuredly have placed them in their closets once they returned from the ball. So, we can track the locations of their homes quite easily, as that is where we will find their robes."

"Aside from placing several trackers on various individuals' robes," continued M, giving a curt nod to Middleton's explanation, "was there anything else that might be remotely useful from the mission tonight, before you were nearly captured?"

Barnes' eyes widened slightly as he replied, "We have proof that Fleur Weasley is still alive; she was there at the ball with Harry Potter."

M nodded again, but did not seem to have any other reaction to that news. Then she asked, "Do we have anyone who can keep tabs on Potter?"

Barnes sighed softly, then responded, "We will find someone to do that, someone who would be willing to help us. I am sure of that."

M frowned at his words, "You had better be right, Barnes, we can't afford any more screw ups."

* * *

11.2

* * *

 _No one here can recognize you_

 _Here is everything that you like_

 _Feelings without explanations_

 _Somethings are hard to describe_

Kingsley Shacklebolt was furious. The ball that had been planned for bringing the magical community back together to help with healing after the recent war was ruined. It was ruined by violence, and most assuredly this was caused by the two men he had met previously in his office. Two men who had a close connection to the muggle government. This was quickly escalating to a confrontation that could easily become disastrous for everyone.

The morning after the ball, he had started his day quite early and had already reviewed the findings of the investigation with Robards. The first order he gave was an arrest on site order for both Barnes and Middleton. The second action he took was to contact the Prime Minister's office and demand a meeting with Tony Blair. However, he was rebuffed with an excuse that the Prime Minister was actually out of the country at the moment, and would not be returning for several days.

Shacklebolt then called in the Directors and Department Heads for an urgent meeting. Everyone understood that the sole agenda item was the review of the intrusion of the party from the night before.

He began to speak slowly, and pointedly, to his department heads. "We are certain that we know who the two men are who attacked people at the gala last night. They are wizards who have been working for the British muggle government."

There were nods and grumblings throughout the room. Then Minister Shacklebolt continued. "I doubt that they would actually be attacking anyone directly at the party — at least, I doubt there was a direct plan to harm anyone. It is possible that they were trying to get information on their next targets."

A voice called out from one of the department heads, "Who are they targeting?"

Kingsley sighed heavily and then he began to answer. "First of all, I need to make it clear that all the information I am relaying to you today is strictly confidential. This is not to be repeated. And yes, Mister Robards already placed detection wards for illegal animagi in the room, so we can be sure that we do not have any eaves droppers. Now, we do know that these men, and those that work with them, we know that they have taken out Death Eaters and supporters of the blood purist movement at Azkaban. I believe that they may be responsible for the deaths of the Weasley family, and subsequently Bill Weasley as well. It is all quite possible, highly likely I might add, that they may be responsible for the attacks on the Flints, the Parkinsons, as well as Burke."

More murmurings arose among those present.

Kingsley waved for them to settle down. "I also learned that they had attacked Fleur Weasley when her husband was killed, and she barely escaped alive from that attack. As you all recall, the young woman did attend the gala last night."

One of the men called out from across the room, "It is possible that they came to the party to try and finish the job on her?"

"That is one of several possibilities that we continue to investigate," he added.

"But what are we going to do about this now?" wondered another voice.

"I have already issued an arrest on site for those two men," explained the minister, "specifically for Andrew Middleton and Regis Barnes. They are both graduates of Hogwarts from the early to mid seventies and apparently they have been working in some capacity for the muggle government for many years, at least since the early 80's." He took a deep breath and then he continued. "I have also made it a priority to discuss this outrageous attack against our people, and the previous mentioned attacks and murders, with the British Prime Minister, however, I am aware that Mister Blair is currently out of the country. I will not rest until I have met with him within the next few days."

* * *

11.3

* * *

 _Go ahead and pull the curtains_

 _Check to see if I'm still here_

 _Let me lose my perspective_

 _Something worth waiting for_

It was the night of the gala, and the ball had just ended in pandemonium as two unidentified individuals had been about to attack someone and the aurors showed up and chased them off. Harry Potter had arrived back at his home, and he was accompanied by Fleur Weasley. Harry was visibly upset and was pacing around his living room, having just stepped out from the floo.

He turned and stared at Fleur, his face red, "Why did you come to the party tonight? You could have been killed!"

Fleur stood opposite the young wizard, her arms crossed defiantly across her chest. "I was tired of being locked up inside, and the Aurors were there, it was safe."

Harry ran a hand through his hair as he was still clearly quite agitated. "It was not safe! Those men were trying to attack someone, but they were stopped and then they escaped!"

Fleur glared back at Harry. "The Aurors kept everyone safe! Was anyone hurt?"

Harry narrowed his eyes before he snapped, "No, but that's not the point!"

Fleur was trying to calm down the tension when she asked in a quieter tone, "Then what is the point Harry?"

Harry spun himself around and faced the wall for a minute, tensing his hands repeatedly, and then after a minute turned back to face her. "I was worried about you," he said, his voice softer and the harshness gone from his tone.

Fleur smiled at Harry as she heard his response. Then her smile turned to a glare, "You were worried about me? I think I have shown that I can take care of myself," her tone becoming harsh again. "I have faced a dragon, I have faced Death Eaters, I even showed that I can transform into my full Veela form when those idiots attacked us and killed Guillaume!"

Harry took a slight step back in response to her sudden outburst, but he responded softly, "But you shouldn't have to do any of that!"

Fleur once again folded her arms across her chest. "Why is that? Because I am a woman? Because I am _too_ fragile?"

Harry rubbed his face with his hand and then he looked her directly in the eyes before stating, "Because I don't want to see you get hurt."

The two former Triwizard Tournament competitors were standing in each other's space, mere inches separating them. Harry considered leaning forward and kissing her, but then he realised that she was the wife of one of his friends. He began to feel remorse, he began to feel very confused, and he suddenly turned away and walked out of the room, up the stairs and into his room.

Fleur was left alone in the room, staring after the retreating form of Harry Potter, wondering about what almost happened.

* * *

11.4

* * *

 _Fooled around enough with numbers_

 _Let's not be ourselves today_

 _Is it just my imagination_

 _Is it just someone's fave_

 _Pleasantly out of proportion_

 _It's hard to hold on to the ground_

 _Now I didn't come to run_

 _And this is everything_

 _And gravity lets you down_

Barnes and Middleton were quickly gathered with the men that they had been working with. They had to replace members of Team Omega, and they had several candidates from the recently organised Teams Beta and Delta. All team members, magical and muggle, were called together for an emergency meeting after the two leaders had finished their meeting with M.

Thomas Smythe and William Jonas were leading teams Beta and Delta, respectively. All of the muggle team members were similar, they were orphans, like many operatives within MI-5 or MI-6; but these men were all made orphans directly from actions taken by magicals during the first war with the Dark Lord known as Voldemort. Or at least, that is what they all believed after they had met with Regis Barnes and Andrew Middleton a number of years ago.

The team members were all seated at their training facility conference room, when Barnes and Middleton walked to the head of the table.

Barnes appeared very serious. "Now, men, we told you that things could get ugly quite quickly. Not everything went as planned at last night's raid against the magicals. No one was hurt, we obviously managed to escape, but the magical government is sure to be preparing to take action. This could easily lead to our immediate supervisors trying to curtail our planned actions against the magical aggressors."

The group of men obviously tensed at his words.

Thomas Smythe spoke up. "But sir, we can't just put a stop to our plans. We have all expressed to you our commitment to see this through."

"That's right," added Jonas, "we will see this through to the end, sir."

The other men all agreed vocally with their team leaders.

"That is reassuring to hear," replied Barnes. "And that means that we all need to be prepared to move out to our special safe houses at a moments notice."

The men indicated that they would be prepared to do whatever was necessary. Barnes then spoke quietly with Middleton after he dismissed the men. "So, you have the contact meeting arranged?"

"I will be meeting with the sympathiser at a muggle pub shortly," acknowledged Middleton.

A couple of hours later, Andrew Middleton was seated at a table in the corner of a pub, with another man, a wizard, by the name of Justin Finch-Fletchley. Privacy wards had been surreptitiously placed around their table by the MI-13 team leader prior to the meeting starting.

Middleton began, "So, Justin, are you concerned about what the Death Eaters did? Did Harry Potter put you or your family at risk?"

Justin shifted slightly in his seat before answering, "Of course, he was just as bad as the Slytherin students. He attacked me with a snake in second year. He tried to take Cedric's fame during the damned Triwizard Tournament. He left us all to suffer at the hands of the Death Eaters throughout our seventh year."

Middleton nodded at each of the points that Justin made. "You've probably heard about the Azkaban massacre," he stated with a soft tone. "That was us. We need more help. We can train you."

"I'm just an average wizard," confessed Justin.

Middleton shrugged off the statement. "You could help us keep tabs on Harry Potter."

Justin shifted once again, "But he doesn't trust me."

"Why not? You can befriend him, make him trust you," stated Middleton. "We have resources to help you. We have resources that you can use to stay in contact with us."

Soon their lunch was finished as was their conversation. Middleton left the pub with a contact who was willing to feed them information about Harry Potter, MI-13's number one target. As he walked down the street with he pub behind him, he muttered to himself, "Now for that meeting with a certain Zacharias Smith."

* * *

11.5

* * *

 _I get wild, wizing up_

 _I just can't let go_

 _I get wild when I get ready_

 _I can hardly talk_

 **Wednesday 1 July 1998**

Kingsley Shacklebolt was continuing to be rebuffed by the Prime Minister's staff. He had already met with his staff and he was no closer to an answer for what had happened on the night of the Summer Solstice party. As he was contemplating what he needed to do next, he became increasingly aware of a disturbance outside of his office. As he approached the door to his secretary's office and the waiting room for the Minister of Magic, he overheard a wizard who was becoming increasingly agitated.

"I don't care if he is having tea with the queen or if he is wiping the arse of the president of the United States," came the loud voice, "I am the lord of a noble house, I am a member of the Wizengamot, the minister will make the time to hear me out!"

Kingsley slowly opened the door and looked at the obviously irritated Lord Greengrass. "Now, now Cyrus, we can't have any of this yelling and carrying on around here."

Cyrus Greengrass stopped his rant when he realised that the Minister of Magic was now speaking to him. Before he could say anything further, Kingsley spoke again. "Why don't you come into my office and we can discuss this matter which has you so upset in a calm and civilised manner, much more befitting the Lord of a Noble House?"

Lord Greengrass huffed slightly, then threw his shoulders back as he muttered, "It's about bloody time."

Kingsley gave his secretary a slight wink to reassure her then he escorted Lord Greengrass into his office. He offered Cyrus a seat in the chair across from his desk, then he proceeded to sit on the edge of his desk as he looked down at the man who had been creating the disturbance. "Now, Cyrus, my old friend," began Kingsley in a soft tone, "what seems to be the problem that has you so upset this morning?"

"You should know quite well what has me upset," began Greengrass, his voice raw from shouting but his tone more calm. "The events at the Summer Solstice Party were unacceptable. Just what in Merlin's name is going on here? Our people are being killed, murdered in cold blood, be it in their homes or supposedly safely locked away in our highest security prison. How is this happening? What are you doing about it?"

"Hold on a minute," replied the minister, "what are you talking about? No one died at the Summer Solstice Party."

Cyrus closed his eyes momentarily before he responded to the minister. "No, no, of course not, despite your Aurors ineptitude with the attacks that occurred. But that was just the latest attack, and surprisingly enough, it was not a lethal one. But we have had the attacks against the Weasley family, a Pureblood family that has essentially been wiped out. And the Azkaban Massacre, and the attacks against Nott and Burke and Flint, all of which were essentially murder. Now, are you going to stand there and tell me that your office has not realised that these events must be linked? Are you going to deny that we as a magical society are once again under attack? Has the DMLE begun to investigate this matter?"

"Now Cyrus, I can assure you that all of these events have been looked into," said the minister, "and there is nothing that links any of those events together."

"No, not when you look at it first hand," agreed Cyrus readily, "not all were Death Eaters, not all were allied with the recent Dark Lord either."

"Precisely," acknowledged a smiling Shacklebolt, "which is why there is no connection."

"Ah, my good friend," continued Lord Greengrass. "You do recall that I worked with you when I briefly worked as an Auror."

"Of course, Cyrus, of course," agreed the minister, "you were skilled with your wand and with analysing everything at a crime scene."

"Then you clearly have not analysed this situation enough, for the answer is right in front of you," argued Cyrus.

"And what answer is that?" asked the minister.

"Someone or some group is targeting members of the Sacred 28," he answered flatly. "We are in danger, as a society. And you, and the ministry, do not appear to be doing anything about this situation to stop it, to protect us."

Kingsley stood up and walked around to take a seat behind his desk. Then he answered his friend, "But that is where you are wrong. We are aware of this information."

"And yet you do nothing with this information?" interrupted Greengrass.

"We are doing many things with this information," conceded Shacklebolt. "We are actively working on determining just who is behind these apparently related attacks, yet, we need to avoid arousing alarm and panic among the witches and wizards of Britain."

"Then what are we to do while we sit around and wait for the ministry, the DMLE, to take action?" questioned Cyrus.

"Do what you have always done," answered the minister. "Prepare for any possible outcome, any possible attack, and let the DMLE handle the perpetrators."

"Just like the ministry handled the Death Eaters?" argued Cyrus. "How many more will have to die while our ministry fails to respond to the threats against our people?"

"We will not stick our head in the sand about this issue, I can assure you, Cyrus," stated the minister. "I am not Fudge, and I resent the comparison you made. But we are dealing with this situation, and we will notify the people once we have a clear message to deliver to them. But we cannot install panic in everyone, we cannot let fear run our lives nor our ministry."

Cyrus stood up and took a deep breath. "Don't take too long in preparing your response, Minister Shacklebolt," he stated adding formality to his tone, "we wouldn't want the rest of the Sacred 28 to end up on the same pages as the Weasley family and the Parkinsons, and the Notts, now would we?"

Cyrus Greengrass then turned and walked out of the minister's office.

* * *

11.6

* * *

 _How did I get home?_

 _I'll survive the situation_

 _Somebody shut the door_

 _Shut the door_

 _Shut the door_

 _Climbing up the wall_

 _I get by on automatic_

 _No surprise at all_

 **Wednesday 8 July 1998**

Kingsley Shacklebolt was preparing for his upcoming meeting with the British Prime Minister. Tony Blair had returned from whatever international meetings he had been attending, and the Minister for Magic was finally going to be able to confront the man. He would be having Croaker, the director for the Department of Mysteries as well as Gawain Robards, his director for the DMLE, joining him for the meeting. He also had reviewed with Croaker that it was possible that there were compulsion charms on the Prime Minister and his cabinet that was allowing these government approved attacks against magicals to occur in the first place.

Just after 11 in the morning, Kingsley was ushered into meet with Tony Blair. The room had a quiet antagonistic air to it, and Kingsley silently muttered a prayer that the morning would unfold without anyone being arrested or hurt.

The Prime Minister spoke up first, "I am aware, Mister Shacklebolt, that you have some concerns about continued unrest within your community. And I am also aware, that you are of the opinion that this unrest is at least, in part, on account of my administration."

"With all due respect, Prime Minister," began Kingsley trying to suppress his anger and frustration that he even needed to be meeting with the man who runs the British muggle government, "I have many concerns. But first, let me state that I have known you since before I was appointed Minister for Magic, as I was appointed your magical bodyguard during the time we were still at war with the one known as Voldemort and his followers."

"You did make sure I was safe and protected from them," acknowledged the PM. "And as I recall, you prevented at least two separate magical attacks against myself and my staff."

"It is with that historical fact that I request that you grant me this one request," continued Kingsley. "I am here with two of my most trusted advisors, and we have reason to believe that there may have been compulsion charms placed on you and on your staff." He raised his hands to try and quell the coming outburst. "I know that such a thing should be an impossibility, but we have reason to believe that those who have been making these repeated attacks against the magical community over the past couple of months have placed these compulsions."

"Even if that were the case," replied the PM, "what exactly can you do about it? Why would they have done this, and perhaps even more to the point, how could they have done this?"

"The why is the easiest to answer," explained Shacklebolt, "they wanted a government supported means to attack certain parties within the magical world. As to what can we do about it, that may also be quite simple, which is why I have these two men with me. Mister Croaker is the head of our Unspeakables department. What that means to you is that he is well versed in investigating mysteries and understanding magic on a level that few of us wizards and witches ever will. He is prepared to test all of you for evidence of any compulsion charms, and if said charms are found, he is equally prepared to remove them from affecting anyone."

There started to be complaints from the various ministers around the room, however the Prime Minister calmed them down. "And if you do not find any evidence of compulsion charms?"

"Then we would apologise for interrupting your obviously busy day, and deal with our troubles on our own," stated Kingsley.

"What exactly must be done, to detect these supposed compulsions? Do we need to do anything in particular?" asked Mister Blair.

"All it would take is for Croaker, here to do a simple spell by waving his wand and then pointing it at everyone in the room," said Kingsley. "I assure you, that he would do nothing beyond that without your express permission, and as it is clear that none of us have drawn our wands, I am asking that you grant us this one favour and allow Mister Croaker to use his wand for the detection spell."

The room became quiet and tense as Tony Blair indicated with a nod that he would allow Croaker to perform the test. Croaker slowly reached into his robes and withdrew his wand. He then began some slow but deliberate moves as he chanted slowly. As he pointed the wand around the room a faint yellow glow emanated from everyone seated around the table.

The Unspeakable then turned to face the Prime Minister, "It is just as I have feared, there is evidence of a compulsion charm on everyone here."

Tony Blair raised an eyebrow, "And what exactly are we supposedly being forced into doing?"

Croaker narrowed his eyes slightly as he raised his left hand slightly, then he made a few quick moves with his wand, pointing it at several of the ministers. "It seems that there are several related compulsions," he began to explain, "that include being highly agreeable to suggestions from two men, a Regis Barnes and an Andrew Middleton, as well as being highly agreeable to any proposed measures to actively attack those in the magical world as a type of vengeance for perceived wrongs."

The ministers were beginning to argue and voice their objections to what they were being told, but once again, they were quieted by the Prime Minister. "And if these compulsions are present, as you say, what would it take to remove them?"

"Oh, there is a simple counter curse that I could cast right now," stated Croaker.

The Prime Minister indicated that Croaker could proceed, and in a moment with a few quick flicks of his wrist the yellow glow from everyone in the room vanished. Feeling a change come over themselves, as though they had been released from some sort of bonds caused many of the ministers present to become angry.

"How could this have happened?"

"Who did this?"

"How did that happen?"

"What have we done?"

Tony Blair shook his head slightly and his face became set with clear anger covering his visage. "It would seem, Mister Shacklebolt, that we owe you an apology, at least, and some sort of response on how to clean up this mess that we seem to find ourselves in." He took a deep breath before he turned to address Croaker, "And I would, we all would, be much obliged if there was a way that we could prevent this from ever happening again."

Gawain Robards managed to get the Prime Minister's attention and then asked, "Is there anyone who is not present?"

Blair scanned the room quickly before replying, "The leaders of MI-13, they had another meeting with their team leaders this morning."

"If you could bring them here," stated Croaker, "as they are probably also under the compulsions as well."

Tony Blair called in a secretary and quickly dismissed them with the urgent task of having M and Q brought to the conference room. Then he turned to speak to the wizards in the room. "We cannot let this information leave this room," he stated firmly, "that myself and my ministers were under any sort of control. We will need to apprehend those responsible for this, and action will need to be taken. But once again, Mister Shacklebolt, we find that we are under attack from those within your little world. This is a most dangerous precedent."

"I understand your concerns, Prime Minister," replied Kingsley, "and we share them as well. We will need to work to track down these individuals who were responsible and then deal with them according to our own laws, as such an action could easily be construed as an act of war."

A minute later, and obviously irritated M and Q were escorted into the room. They looked around at everyone who was present and began to question what was going on.

"Please stand still, this should only take a minute," stated the Prime Minister, before he nodded to Croaker to go ahead with his scan.

Croaker once agin withdrew his wand, and a moment later there was a yellow glow emanating from the two leaders for MI-13. After a slight nod from the PM, Croaker once again cast the counter curse and the yellow glow faded.

M and Q both stumbled slightly, as the feeling of the release caused them to momentarily lose their balance, something which was not appreciated as all of the other ministers were seated when the compulsions were released.

Q was still feeling unsteady and was given a chair to sit on.

M put a hand to her mouth and then closed her eyes. "Dear God, what have we done?"

Tony Blair looked at his lead for the intelligence services and then asked her, "How extensive is this problem?"

She took a deep breath and then spoke through pursed lips. "The two men, Barnes and Middleton, have created a total of four teams They have two other wizards working with them, Smythe and Jonas."

"Well, then, call them in, deactivate their teams immediately," ordered Blair.

M had one of the secretaries go contact the magical teams, and a few minutes later the secretary returned. "We cannot get a hold of Barnes, or Middleton, or the teams, ma'am. Apparently there is no one at their usual headquarters."

* * *

 **AN: Sorry for the delay in the update. Life does get busy at times.**

 **So, now we have Barnes and Middleton and their teams on the run.**

 **More to come, obviously...**

 **(edited March 2018)**


	12. Chapter 12 - Burning Down The House

**Burning Down The House**

 **LDW- 12**

* * *

 _Hold tight_

 _Wait 'til the party's over_

 _Hold tight_

 _We're in for nasty weather_

 _There has got to be a way_

 _Burning down the house_

* * *

 **LDW- 12.1**

* * *

Longbottom Manor

 **Thursday 9 July 1998**

Neville Longbottom was in his element. He was busy with his various rare magical plants in his family's greenhouses and thus he was not feeling the slightest bit of self-consciousness or anxiety that he happened to have a young witch with him this morning.

Hannah Abbott, a Hufflepuff witch whom he had known since he was a young child, was hanging on his every word as he explained the various types of plants he had acquired and how they could prove beneficial in potions or other magical uses. Neville's easy going explanations were simpler to follow, at least for Hannah, than any of the lectures Madam Sprout had given them over the years they were in school at Hogwarts. While he was playing the details on one small plant with a purple flower, Neville missed the sparkling in Hannah's eyes as she simply admired the man standing in front of her. Hannah had known Neville since they were toddlers, however she never really got to know him until she witnessed his transformation over the past year as he became the protector of all the students at Hogwarts who were being victimised by the Slytherins and the Death Eaters.

Neville took punishments for other younger students. Neville made sure that students who were being attacked knew of a safe place to stay — the Room of Requirement, and he protected their sanctuary. Neville then fought bravely, standing up to Lord Voldemort, defying his call for pureblooded wizards to join him, eventually culminating in his slaying of the Dark Lord's magically enhanced snake, Nagini. But despite all that he had done, Neville was a very humble wizard, who still found his excitement in his plants and his greenhouse.

Hannah had seen the gentle person that was Neville, and the ferocity of his commitment to others. She wondered if it was his years of spending time with Harry Potter in their dormitory, or whether it was just his family heritage showing through, but either way, she was enthralled with the man in front of her, hardly believing that no other witch had tried to capture his attention.

A sudden crash followed by a high pitched screech broke her from her musings as she was staring into Neville's eyes. Neville dropped the potted plant in his hands as he instantly had his wand in his hand in response to the alarms.

"The wards are down," he hissed, stepping past Hannah. "Something is wrong, something is very wrong."

"Should we head to the house?" asked a suddenly frightened Hannah.

"No, no, there are secondary wards that would have been erected," stated Neville as he was busy scanning the yards after making his way to the entrance of the greenhouse. "Whomever is behind this, they will be sorry they chose to attack Longbottom Manor."

"Then what should we do?" asked Hannah, still clearly quite worried about what was happening.

Neville replied coolly, "We wait here and see what happens, no need to go rushing into something we don't know about. That could get us killed, or worse."

Hannah didn't want to ask him what he meant by worse than being killed.

Team Alpha had arrived at Longbottom Manor and had already forcibly taken down the main wards protecting the property. The information that Barnes had obtained was that they would be facing a meek Gryffindor student who some had considered to be little more than a squib, and his elderly grandmother. No one else was supposed to be at the property.

Starks was leading the assault next to Barnes, and had his assault rifle at eye level as he approached the large mansion. He could see that there were magical protections on the main entrance with his special goggles. So he started firing rounds of his magic piercing bullets at the door. There was a crash as the door collapsed from the loss of magic protections and the sheer amount of damage from the gunfire.

A window above the main entrance opened slightly, and a red beam of light shot out, catching Starks in his right shoulder. He let out a scream of agony as he was forced to drop his weapon as the shoulder had been shattered by the blasting hex. Mills and O'Brien immediately opened up fire towards the window where the beam of magic had emanated from in an effort to put the witch or wizard down.

Barnes signalled for the men to stop the shooting. "There are more wards around the house. Get the ward grenades out now!"

Mills reached into his bag and pulled out the anti-magic grenade and went to pull the pin. As he did so another spell came flying out of the second floor window and clipped him in the leg. He stumbled to the ground and dropped the grenade which rolled towards Barnes. Barnes realised that the weapon was about to go off and he dove away behind a tree. The anti-magic grenade exploded, causing a ripple in the wards protecting the manor and a scream to be emitted from the team leader.

Bushnell was trying to bandage Starks' shoulder and Flanders went to try and stop the bleeding from the large gash on Mills' leg. O'Brien was checking on Barnes, who appeared to have been stunned somewhat from the anti-magic grenade. His body was quaking slightly as he grit his teeth.

"I'll be all right in a minute," he groaned out, "messed up my magic temporarily with that blast. But you all need to get into that manor and take out anyone and everyone!"

O'Brien nodded and put his magic detecting goggles back in place. There was a hole in the wards in front of the house, so they would have a way to get inside. He grabbed his weapon and jumped up and ran towards the mansion, firing an array of bullets towards the second story window from where the spells had been cast. Flanders came running behind him once he had completed the first aid on Mill's leg. The two of them kicked in the front door and saw an elderly woman facing them, wand in hand. A streak of yellow light shot out of her wand and O'Brien dove to the side, but Flanders opened up firing and in a moment the old woman lay at the bottom of the grand staircase.

O'Brien got back to his feet and the two men slowly made their way over to the lifeless form of Augusta Longbottom.

"So, that's the person who took out Starks, and injured Mills?" asked Scott as he walked up behind the other two.

Barnes had managed to get himself upright and staggered over to the bloody scene. "Yeah, that's the old lady Longbottom, she was a tough one."

Augusta Longbottom had numerous bullet holes in her chest, and it appeared that she may have been shot even before she came down the stairs.

"Damn, she wasn't a pushover," muttered Flanders.

"Well, we were warned about her," added O'Brien.

"Stay alert, everyone, we don't know where her son is," stated Barnes. "Starks will have to stay on post out front, he can handle a pistol with his left hand, as we can't get that shoulder fixed right away."

The men then made their way through the house, and quickly discovered that it was quite empty. Using his wand to lead the way, Barnes followed the tracking signal and made his way into a large empty bedroom. In the large walk-in closet on the far side he soon located Neville's dress robes from the Summer Solstice ball. "Well, we know the tracker worked, it lead us to this house, and to his room. But where is the young wizard? He was supposed to be here."

Looking out the window towards the back of the property Bushnell noted the large greenhouses. "Perhaps the kid is out there," he said pointing to the greenhouses with his weapon.

The group made their way down the stairs and back outside. The stood together in front of the greenhouses and Barnes ordered them to get the incendiary grenades. "If he's in there, we'll get him with these."

The grenades were then tossed onto the greenhouses and the team took cover behind a wall that Barnes had conjured. Once the explosion had settled, they quickly searched the debris, but they found no evidence of anyone having been caught in the attack.

Flanders spoke up first, "Do we know for certain that he was in there?"

"He was supposed to be here today," stated Barnes. "And we have anti-portkey wards in place. Not sure how he could have escaped."

O'Brien then spoke up, "Do you think that kid would have run off leaving his grandmother to fight?"

"Maybe she told him to flee, after all, his parents are incapacitated," stated Barnes. "But if he was here, it's not clear how the kid managed to escape."

* * *

 **LDW- 12.2**

 _No visible means of support_

 _And you have not seen nothin' yet_

 _Everything's stuck together_

 _And I don't know what you expect_

 _Staring into the TV set_

 _Fighting fire with fire_

* * *

Neville Longbottom was not happy. He glared at Hannah. "I told you to leave with the house elf!"

"I did, you idiot," replied Hannah.

"But as Gordon popped away with you, you grabbed my arm! I could have stayed to help protect my gran!" exclaimed Neville.

Hannah pulled Neville into a hug. "You saw what was happening as well as I did. They had those muggle weapons, and they were throwing bombs at the house, and they were destroying the wards. If you had stayed, they would have taken you out as well. That wasn't a fight you were going to win!"

Tears were streaming down her face. "I don't want to lose you, not now, not after everything we've all been through over the past year. I lost my mom during the war, during our sixth year, so, yeah, I do know what you're feeling, Neville."

She could feel Neville start to tremble in her arms.

"It's not right, Hannah," he whispered, his voice strained from his emotions, "it's not right what they did. And they will pay for it, I promise, on my gran's life and memory, they will pay."

The young couple sat down on a love seat in the Abbott's living room, and soon Hannah's father was running into the room to see who was there.

"What's going on?" demanded Garamond Abbott. "What are you two doing here? I thought you were spending the day at Neville's greenhouse."

He noticed the tears on both of their faces.

"We were attacked," choked out Neville. "My gran, I fear they killed her. They destroyed our wards. They were using muggle weapons!"

"Bloody hell, that's not right," growled Mister Abbott.

"We escaped with Neville's house elf," explained Hannah.

"What in Merlin's name is going on around here?" wondered her father out loud. "New attacks! And no one at the ministry is telling us anything about what happened to the other families."

"The attacks, the ones that have been occurring since the war ended, they have all been against pure-blood families," stated Hannah. "Don't you see, someone is after the pure-bloods." Then she turned back to Neville and caressed his cheek. "We should be safe here, we're half-bloods according to most wizards."

Hannah's father decided that now was not the time to point out that their family was once a part of the Sacred 28. But with everything that had just happened, he decided to let it be for now. But the thoughts of his losing his wife the year before at the hands of Death Eaters made his anger at the situation grow.

Several minutes later, the Abbott family house elf was bringing them all some hot chocolate. "This is always good for the nerves," stated Hannah's father, as the mugs were placed in front of everyone as they had gathered around the table. Then Garamond turned to Neville, "Have you spoken to anyone yet? You need to notify the authorities. Do you know anyone at the ministry?"

Neville nodded, still feeling numb. "Maybe I should tell Harry. He'd know what to do. Harry knows everyone at the ministry, I think. And everyone knows Harry."

Hannah reached over and gave Neville's hand a squeeze.

"I'll send him a patronus message," stated Neville as he pulled out his wand. It took a couple of tries before he managed to come up with only a slight silver mist. He sighed heavily, then he called his house elf, Gordon. "Hey Gordon, could you head over to where Harry Potter lives, and tell him what happened, that we were attacked."

Gordon nodded, tears in his large eyes as he understood that they had escaped a horrific situation. A minute later, Harry and Fleur arrived at the Abbott household.

Harry ran across the room to great his friend. "Neville, oh Merlin, I am so sorry, my friend," cried Harry as he pulled Neville into a tight hug.

The others stared quietly at the beautiful blonde witch who had accompanied Harry. Neville then spoke up, finding the words to make an introduction. "Hannah, Mister Abbot, this is Fleur Delacour-Weasley. She's been staying with Harry since her husband was killed. I think it was the same people who attacked them who just attacked my home."

"Fleur Delacour-Weasley? The Triwizard Champion from Beauxbatons?" stated Hannah's father. "Oh, well, it certainly is an honour to have you here as our guest!"

Fleur blushed ever so slightly at this reaction.

Harry then spoke up, "So, Nev, can you tell me what happened?"

Just as Harry was asking the question, the house shook violently.

"The wards just fell!" cried out Hannah's father.

"Not this time!" called out Neville. "Not here! Not now! This has to stop!" The young wizard had his wand in his hand as he went to the front of the house, with Harry and Fleur right behind him.

* * *

 **LDW- 12.3**

In Norfolk, high atop a hill outside of Norwich, there was an old mansion that had stood for centuries, home to the Carrow family.

On the afternoon of 9 July 1998, the mansion was a pile of smouldering ruins.

* * *

 **LDW- 12.4**

 _Here's your ticket pack your bags_

 _Time for jumpin' overboard_

 _The transportation is here_

 _Close enough but not too far,_

 _Maybe you know where you are_

 _Fightin' fire with fire_

* * *

Harry Potter sent off a patronus message to the Minister for Magic: "Kingsley, Hannah Abbott and her family are under attack! The Longbottom Manor was already attacked just a short while ago!"

Harry then came up behind Neville and was amazed by the ferocity with which his fellow Gryffindor was casting spells at the men in the yard. Red and yellow streaks of light were flashing out from Neville's wand, taking out several of the men firing their automatic rifles at the mansion.

The front of the house was riddled with bullet holes as Neville moved behind a pillar for protection. Harry and Fleur were now hiding behind a stone wall which Harry conjured right near where a picture window had been. The group of three magicals were sending blasting and cutting hexes towards the assailants as quickly as they could.

Hannah's father had moved to the room to Neville and Harry's left to take up a position to defend their home, while Hannah stayed back to keep an eye on those who were fighting and offer shields for protection or healing spells if they were injured.

A loud whistling sound came from outside which was followed by an even louder explosion as the side of the house where Hannah's father had taken position exploded. Hannah screamed as she saw the rubble coming down where her dad had been standing a moment before. Neville heard his girlfriend's scream and turned to look out at the group that was attacking them. He noticed a man with what he would later learn was a rocket launcher on his shoulder and immediately he sent an overpowered blasting hex at the man. The sudden of explosion of blood and tissue from where the man's chest had been caused the other assailants to pause in their firing of their weapons.

Two of the six team members who had been firing automatic rifles had already been incapacitated by Neville and Harry. The remaining three who were holding rifles were taken out by Harry, Fleur and Neville in rapid succession. The three then stepped out from behind their respective hiding places to investigate who had been attacking them.

They then noticed a man step out from behind a large tree, holding a wand. With a quick flick of his wrist a small flash of his wand sent clear bolts of energy to each of his downed comrades, other than the man who had been holding the rocket launcher, and then all of them disappeared with the pop of emergency port-keys that had been activated. Right after they vanished a group of four Aurors appeared on the lawn of the Abbot property and they all paused as they gazed upon the destruction of the home.

* * *

 **LDW- 12.5**

 _My house's out of the ordinary_

 _That's right_

 _Don't want to hurt nobody_

 _Some things sure can sweep me off my feet_

 _Burning down the house_

* * *

The DMLE headquarters was chaotic at best. Two attacks had occurred nearly back to back, and these were both against Pure-blood families. Robards and Shacklebolt were dealing with hearing the reports from the various Auror teams which had been sent out to respond to the attacks and investigate the aftermath. Several other teams had also been sent out to check on any of the other remaining Sacred 28 families, as the Minister for Magic was sure that was the current agenda of the terrorists.

The news was not pleasant. Augusta Longbottom was dead, killed in her own home, but not until she had laid waste to half of the assault team that had breached the manor's wards. Likewise, Garamond Abbott had now moved on to join his wife, and the Abbott family home was mostly in ruins.

A young Auror came into the large conference room, appearing distressed.

"What is it?" demanded Robards, seeing the look on the young wizard's face.

"Horace Slughorn, sir," stated the young Auror, "when we went to investigate his home, there was no answer. The senior Auror, Bacon I think it was sir, he kicked in the front door. Professor Slughorn was seated in a large chair, but he wasn't moving, sir. He was dead sir. They called in one of the investigation teams to look into it, but there was no sign of anything, no potions, no recent spells fired, no residue of muggle weapons."

"Regardless," replied an increasingly somber head of the DMLE, "we need to treat his death as another attack from those terrorists. He then looked around the room and called out if any one else had new information.

A witch called out from the back, "The Carrow family home near Norfolk has been razed. No survivors were found, sir."

"Bloody hell," he muttered, "they will pay for this, they will pay."

* * *

 **LDW- 12.6**

* * *

Kingsley Shacklebolt was not a happy man. He had to address the magical community of Great Britain and he did not have pleasant news for anyone. A press conference of sorts was called, and he arranged for it to be held in the middle of Diagon Alley, in a very public and open setting, to try and reassure the magical people whom he served.

Once a crowd had gathered the Minister for Magic stepped up to the makeshift podium and he began to speak after casting a sonorous charm.

"It is with very sad news that I greet you all today," he began. "Yesterday we suffered the tragic loss of several important members of our magical community. Augusta Longbottom, Garamond Abbot and Horace Slughorn were all taken from us."

There were gasps from the crowd who had not yet heard about the attacks. But the minister continued.

"These good people did not simply die from old age or from some unfortunate disease, but they were killed in brutal attacks carried out against these people in their homes. I do not need to remind any of you about the recent tragedies and loss of life we suffered as a nation over the past few years from the recent war."

He paused while people began to mutter even more loudly. Kingsley waved his hand to quiet them as he proceeded to speak once more. "As you may be wondering if these attacks are in any way related to events from earlier this year, events since the end of the war and the Battle of Hogwarts, I cannot lie to you all. We have come to the conclusion that there are certain individuals, acting as terrorists, who are systematically attacking our families."

Screams erupted from the audience and a few witches fainted. Now the minister raised both hands to calm down the audience.

"There is a pattern that we have determined as to who is being attacked," he stated trying to calm everyone. "The DMLE will be notifying everyone who is considered at risk about the potential dangers they may face. In fact, most of those families have already been contacted. However, everyone needs to learn to take precautions. Do not travel alone when you leave your home. Review your own personal wards and consider upgrading them if necessary. I assure you, we are putting together a special team to deal with this threat as quickly and decisively as possible."

With that, Minister Shacklebolt bowed his head slightly before he quickly turned around and disappeared, knowing full well that his message would be published and more than likely be twisted in one way or another.

* * *

 **LDW- 12.7**

* * *

The safe house was a busy place. The injured soldiers from two of the assault teams were either being cared for in the make-shift medical unit to one side of the old warehouse. The dead that had been recovered were covered up under sheets in an attached room to one side of the main hall.

Barnes and Middleton were both scowling as they surveyed the results of the morning's activities.

"What happened at Longbottom Manor?" Middleton demanded of Barnes.

Barnes glared at Middleton briefly then he took a deep breath before he answered. "The old woman was tough, really tough. She personally took out most of the team. She even withstood many rounds of bullets before she finally collapsed. And by the time we were able to get into the rest of the property the young heir had disappeared."

Thomas Smythe stepped forward. "My team was decimated at the Abbott's. I am sure that we took out Lord Abbott himself, but I am also quite sure that Heir Longbottom was there, as well as his friend, Potter."

Barnes spun around to face the young team leader. "Potter showed up? Why? How?"

The younger team leader shrugged. "I have no idea, but one of our contacts indicated that Longbottom is close friends with Hannah Abbott, who is now the only one left in that family. They may have escaped to her family's home from Longbottom Manor."

Barnes growled, "Why were the attacks not carried out simultaneously? They were all supposed to happen at the same time so that we wouldn't have anything like this mess be able to happen."

"Rodgers," stated Smythe, "he wanted to have his rocket launcher ready. It took him longer to assemble it than he planned. This in turn slowed down the attack on the wards protecting the house."

"The rocket launcher wasn't necessary," argued Barnes. "We told him that. And if they had followed the time line, neither Longbottom nor Potter would have been there. Probably."

"Now what do we do?" queried Middleton.

"Potter is now directly involved on multiple fronts. He saved that French Veela, he was at the Abbott's with Longbottom," observed Barnes. "He will need to become our number one target. But we better not underestimate him."

One of the muggle team members spoke up, "What is so special about him? He's just a teenager? How powerful can he really be?"

Barnes glared at the man. "Did none of you read the briefings on that kid? He single handedly defeated one of the most powerful and dangerous wizards ever. And he apparently did it multiple times, finally killing that bastard in May. The self proclaimed Lord Voldemort was directly or indirectly responsible for our families being nearly wiped out because he took out any muggle-born families that he could. But Potter took him out as a teenager. Potter is known for his being brash, for running in to save anyone just because he thinks it's the right thing to do. And he usually comes out unscathed. And he always comes out alive. No, if we underestimate him when we move on him, we do so at our own peril. We need to regroup, we need to take some time to let this all settle down. The Ministry of Magic must be worse than a hornets nest that was kicked around like a football. We will plan, and we will wait."

"But what about those two girls?" asked Jonas.

"The Carrow twins? You leave them alone. Keep them in their room, no access to magic, and feed them regularly," stated Barnes. "We're not disgusting pigs. You do not threaten them, unless they try to escape. You will not assault them in anyway. They are our hostages to be used to bargain with if necessary. They are not play things. And I will personally deal with anyone who touches them or hurts them."

The men all nodded silently in response to his words.

"Now," continued Barnes, "we need to move out to the next safe house by tomorrow morning. And we need follow up with our contacts, in the Ministry and in the magical public."

* * *

 **LDW- 12.8**

 _It was once upon a place,_

 _Sometimes I listen to myself_

 _Gonna come in first place_

 _People on their way to work,_

 _Baby, what did you expect?_

 _Gonna burst into flame_

* * *

Three days later, Harry was sitting at the Leaky Cauldron, having lunch with Zacharias Smith.

Harry was surprised to have been contacted by the young man, as they had limited contact with each other outside of the DA during their fifth year.

"So, why exactly did you ask to meet with me?" wondered Harry as they waited for the lunch to arrive.

"Well, Potter, with everything that is going on, all these attacks, the warnings from the minister the other day," began Zacharias, avoiding eye contact with Harry, "I figured you were the best person to tell me what exactly is going on."

"Didn't you listen to the announcements? They're after Pure-blood families, not half-bloods," chided Harry.

"Yeah, well, I thought Hannah was a half-blood, wasn't her mum a muggle-born?" he asked nervously.

Harry leaned back and took a deep breath. "Her mother was a muggle-born and she married into the Abbott family. Hannah's mum was killed during our sixth year, but you should have known that."

Zacharias was fidgeting more, twirling his fork in his hand as he alternatively poked at the salad he had ordered. Suddenly his fork slipped and knocked over Harry's butter beer bottle.

"Oh, Merlin, I'm sorry Harry," he said as Harry jumped back.

Harry shook his head and then leaned over to his right to pick up the bottle. While he was bent over Zacharias silently cast a spell aimed at Harry's back side.

Harry sat back up with his nearly empty bottle. "So, Smith, why ask me any of this?"

"Well, are we going to be at war again? I was wondering, I was just worried I guess," stated Zacharias who seemed to be a little more relaxed now to Harry. "I mean, will I need to be prepared to fight."

"Don't take this the wrong way, Smith," stated Harry. "But you were never really ready to fight, be it in fifth year with the DA, or earlier this year at the Battle of Hogwarts. Trust me, I don't think that you're on the list of targets that this current group of terrorists has, so you really don't need to lose any sleep over it."

"Yeah, well, you never can tell," stated Zacharias as he looked Harry in the eyes this time. "But whatever is going on, whether it be when we were in school, or now, you always seem to find yourself in the middle of everything, so I figured who else would know better what is really going on. So, yeah, thanks; thanks for reassuring me."

With that he gave Harry a brief nod, and stood up and left the table. Harry watched the young man walk out the door of the Leaky Cauldron towards muggle London.

"That was odd," he said to himself as he stood up and walked out to Diagon Alley.

* * *

 **LDW- 12.9**

* * *

Harry was grateful to have a quiet day for his birthday. He had managed to meet up with Neville for a few butter beers. Neville was still a little upset over the loss of his grandmother. He and Hannah had been nearly inseparable since the attacks. They were staying at a small cottage that his family owned in the outskirts of London. Hannah stayed at home while she let the two young men meet for some time "out on the town."

Sipping on their butter beers at the Three Broomsticks in Hogsmeade, the two had a chance to catch up.

"You know Harry, you seem to always attract trouble, even now that we're out of school," stated Neville.

"It wasn't me this time, Nev," countered Harry. "You called me to come help, if you recall."

Neville smiled briefly then his eyes watered up slightly. He looked carefully at his best friend and then he asked him the question he had been considering for days.

"How do you hold up, mate? I mean, you lost your parents when we were just a year old, you had your unpleasant experiences with your relatives, and then you came to Hogwarts and every year there was something going on, and you with the big target on your back," he said, feeling exhausted just thinking about everything that Harry had been through.

"Neville, you've been there with me for most of the last 7 years. You're a great friend, and you've helped me through much of it," stated Harry, "and you had your own issues. You lost your mum and dad at the same time I did, and yes, you had your Gran, but you lost her now. You should be Lord Longbottom. And make no mistake about it, those attacks weren't just against your gran, they were after you. And you survived that attack and then the one at Hannah's. I look to you and I see strength, a true Gryffindor. I heard so much about what you did last year to protect so many of the students. I wonder how you could have done all of that."

As Harry finished his comments, a blonde woman showed up and sat down at the table with them. "Would you two stop your mutual admiration society for just a minute," stated Fleur as she took a seat. "Really now, you're both heroes to your country. To all magicals." She then turned to Neville and gave him a smile, "We've all had to suffer and what you've just been through is truly horrific, but here you are, sitting down with your best friend, your mate, as you English say. You two probably are still targets of whomever is doing these attacks, but here you are, not afraid to be seen in public. When do you take time for yourselves, to mourn?"

She then turned to Harry, "And you, Mister Potter, the once little boy who has become a man and who has lost so much. Yes, I lost my husband, but his family was your family. And you lost Sirius, and Remus, and Tonks, and so many others. But you still continue to be the same person, simple and kind Harry, willing to jump in and risk everything for a friend just because he can."

The two young men sat and stared at her. Then they turned to face each other and smiled slightly. Then Harry responded to Fleur. "We don't know any other way to do things," stated Harry. "Neville had the courage to stand up to Ron and Hermione and me back when we were firsties, back when no one really knew how strong and brave he is. But we fought together over the years for what is right, and we're not going to stop now, even with the latest set backs." Then he turned to his friend, "Right, Nev?"

Neville smiled at his friend and raised his bottle to propose a toast, "Right Harry. To friends and allies, to lost friends, and to peace and to whatever the bloody else we have to do to keep this crazy world from going to shit."

Harry and Fleur both laughed and raised their bottles in response to Neville's toast.

"And may we have a boring birthday next year!" replied Harry.

* * *

 **LDW- 12.10**

 _Watch out, you might get what you're after_

 _Cool babies, strange but not a stranger_

 _I'm an ordinary guy_

 _Burning down the house_

* * *

 **Wednesday 5 August 1998**

 **12 Grimmauld Place**

Harry was having a slow start to his day. He had enjoyed his weekend with a quiet birthday get together with Neville, and now he was spending time trying to determine just what he would be doing with the rest of his summer, and for that matter his life. The terrorist group that was targeting pure-bloods had not made any moves since their attacks against the Longbottoms and the Abbotts. Harry had learned from Shacklebolt that it was presumed that the death of Horace Slughorn, the former potions professor, was also related, as was the attack on the Carrow's home in Norwich. Harry was strongly considering applying for the Auror Academy, despite not having completed his seventh year at Hogwarts and not having taken any NEWTs. But part of him felt he had done enough fighting against "the bad guys" already, and with the current situation with attacks against magical families, particularly families of his friends, he was worried. He had been working on drafting a letter to the Auror Academy, but he had been sitting at his desk for nearly an hour without having actually written anything on the piece of parchment in front of him.

Fleur came into the study where Harry was sitting at the desk and sighed when she noticed his blank piece of paper.

"Harry, either write to the academy, or don't," she said softly, "either way, it is okay. The DMLE should be honoured to have one such as you come work for them. But you need to do what is right for you. You have done so much for everyone, for me, for your friends, for all of Britain and even Europe. They might expect that you do more, but hear me on this. You do not need to do anything more for them. You need to choose to do what you want to do."

Harry looked up at her and gave her a soft smile. He was about to respond to her words when there was a sudden and unexpected loud crash, like a wall had just caved in.

"What the bloody hell was that?" screamed Harry.

Fleur cried out, "Mon Dieu!"

Harry had his wand in his hand and called out to his house elf, "Kreacher! What is going on?"

Kreacher appeared in front of him, blood streaming down his face from cuts all over his head. "Nasty men with muggle weapons are attacking the house! The front wall is collapsed!"

"I knew it was too quiet for too long," muttered Harry as he gripped his wand tighter.

He and Fleur made their way to the hallway and saw dust and smoke coming from the bottom of the stairwell.

"They'll bring the house down around us!" exclaimed Fleur.

"Not if I have anything to say about it," snapped Harry.

Harry was about to charge down the stairs when Fleur grabbed him by his arm. "You don't know who or what is down there," she warned him.

Kreacher had wiped some of the blood off of his face as he hissed, "There are at least four men, three with filthy muggle weapons, and at least one is carrying a wand."

"Probably already used a rocket launcher on the front of the house," snarled Harry. He then took another step towards the stairs when Kreacher grabbed at his legs.

"No Master Harry," pleaded the aged house elf. "Come with me, come to the library, the family library."

Harry looked at the large eyes of Kreacher and saw both pain and concern there, something he had never really seen before from the Black family elf.

"Alright, alright," agreed Harry as they made their way to the library.

Kreacher pointed to a large book on a shelf towards the back of the room. "Use the family ward book, it is linked to the house! Only the true Lord Black can use that book! Only you can save the house! Oh, mistress would be so upset with me for letting this all happen."

Harry ran to the book and wondered what he would do as he opened the book. He felt a slight charge of electricity in his hand as he opened the tome, then he felt a warmth come over him. Suddenly he could feel the wards of the house and he could feel the magic trying to protect them. Harry turned to look at Kreacher, but the house elf suddenly popped away.

Harry and Fleur heard footsteps clomping up the stairs. Then they heard screams from at least two men.

Kreacher appeared back before them, now he had a smile. "Ruined the soup I was making you all for lunch," he said, "stupid muggle fighters. Parts of the ceiling fell into the soup bowl!"

Harry turned to Fleur who shook her head indicating that she had no idea what the elf was talking about. Harry turned back to Kreacher who seemed to shrug his shoulders. "Stupid men ruined the soup, the hot soup. Kreacher threw the soup at stupid muggle men."

The image of men being scalded by boiling hot soup briefly filled Harry's mind. Then he turned his attention back to the family ward book. He reached out with his magic and he could feel the activation of specific wards — a golem to protect the basement came to life out of the stone floor down there, and a banshee came flying down from the attic. Harry quickly explained to Fleur what had just happened with the wards bringing parts of the house to life.

Fleur gaped at Harry upon hearing of the magic that the house was imbued with. "But I don't think that either will slow down that group very much."

Harry called out in disgust, "They have anti-apparition and anti-portkey wards set up!"

"We're not going to make it out the front door, soup or no soup," stated Fleur.

Just then the sound of gun fire ripped through one of the walls of the library and Fleur screamed in pain. The gunfire stopped almost immediately and a scream of pain came from the hallway.

Harry was holding Fleur who was now bleeding from her shoulder where a bullet had hit her. She had a look of panic in here eyes. Harry was trying to figure out what to do when Kreacher appeared again.

"Now he's wearing the whole soup kettle!" called out the elf. Then Kreacher noticed that Fleur was injured. He immediately grabbed Harry and Fleur with both hands and then the trio disappeared.

A moment later they reappeared in the entryway of St. Mungo's, and Fleur collapsed onto the floor. Realising where they were, Harry immediately called out for help from a healer.

* * *

 **LDW- 12.11**

 _All wet, hey, you might need a raincoat_

 _Shakedown, dreams walking in broad daylight_

 _Three hundred sixty five degrees_

 _Burning down the house_

* * *

Several hours later Harry found himself in a meeting with the Minister for Magic and the Director of the DMLE. Harry was calmer as Fleur had been attended to and her injuries had been treated and she was recovering in a bed in what Harry was told was a very secure area.

The Minister looked at Harry and frowned. "It seems, my young friend, that you have been identified as a major target for the terrorists. There is extensive damage to 12 Grimmauld Place."

Harry cursed the terrorists under his breath then he looked up at the Minister, "Fine, then let me fight against these people, I can join the Aurors."

"You can do no such thing," countered Robards.

"Why not?" asked a surprised Harry. "I fought in our last war, I defeated Voldemort. Are you trying to say I am not skilled enough?"

Robards shrugged at the teen in front of him. "I don't know if you were lucky or what the bloody hell happened, but what I do know is that you never graduated from Hogwarts, that you have never sat to take your NEWTs and as such you are simply not qualified to be an Auror."

Harry was shocked to actually hear this response from the head of the DMLE, especially considering the events of the past couple of months. "Does everything I did count for nothing?"

Robards frowned at Harry. "When it comes to being an Auror, life experience credit is not applicable. Granted, it will help with your skills which you will need, but you can't just break the rules because you want to. This isn't third year fun and games, Potter, this is life."

Harry looked to Shack for support.

Kingsley took a deep breath before he responded. "He has a point, Harry, we can't just let you become an Auror when you lack some of the specific training required."

Harry narrowed his eyes as he looked at the minister, shocked by what he was hearing.

"However, Harry, I think we have several things we can do to help," added the minister.

Harry grew suspicious.

"First of all, as you are a major target, we need to make sure that you are safe," stated Shacklebolt.

Harry was puzzled, "And how do you plan to do that seeing as how you won't let me become an Auror."

Taking another deep breath, Kingsley then continued, "Perhaps it would be best if you travelled overseas."

Harry was shocked, "You want me to run away like a scared little squib?"

"No, that is not what I am saying," replied the minister. "However, I am aware of a new program, a very new and secret program, where we can arrange for wizards or witches to receive training from an ally. However, as I said, this is a new program, and it is only in a trial phase."

Harry continued to be suspicious. "How new? And what do you mean by trial phase?"

Robards answered with a smirk, "He means that we are trying this out with you."

"And you can't discuss it with anyone," stated Shacklebolt. "Or not yet, anyway."

Harry was unsure of what they were saying.

"We can get you out of Britain, and you will need to make your way to the States," explained the minister. "You will receive information along the way as to where you need to go and with whom you need to meet."

Harry was still feeling he wasn't getting the whole story. "But why don't you just send me to their training facility?"

"This is a new and unregistered program," said Robards. "Besides, we do not know who Barnes and Middleton may have ties with, either locally or even abroad. Most likely they have contacts even within our ministry. Your involvement in this new program will be largely unknown to the MACUSA and their Aurors. You will essentially be working with one of their special operatives. In an unofficial capacity, of course."

Harry nodded and replied "Of course," although the offer sounded dubious at best which only left Harry feeling confused.

Shack tried to reassure him, "Harry, we know that somehow _you_ were targeted. There was evidence of some sort of tracking charm on your clothes at your home. Not much different from one found on Neville Longbottom's robes that were left hanging in his closet. Somehow, they managed to tag the two of you and track you to where you live. It really is a shame that the fidelius was no longer active on 12 Grimmauld Place. That might have made all the difference. Also, we will be working to help protect the other families that are being targeted, and you will need to get this training, and then you will most likely return to help with ending this disgraceful situation."

Harry was uneasy with this plan. "I am not afraid to fight, I am not a coward. I don't like this idea of running away."

"Of course not, no one would ever believe that you are a coward or that you are running away," agreed the minister. "But you know you couldn't fight Riddle until you had accomplished what Professor Dumbledore set out for you to do, and you won't be as prepared to fight this new battle without this additional training."

"No point in getting killed now after everything you have already done," added Robards with a smile.

"But why can't I tell anyone what I am doing?" asked Harry who was still unsure of everything.

"We have already been in contact with MI-13, the muggle secret service branch that included magicals, the group that these terrorists were once a part of," stated Kingsley. "They had been getting some information from within our ministry as far as locations of where people may be found, and they have allies apparently from muggle-born and half bloods who are happy to see the Pure Bloods getting attacked. We just assumed it is best if no one knows what you are doing, so that information can't get back to Barnes and Middleton and their men."

"But why keep this secret from the Americans?" Harry continued to wonder.

"As I mentioned earlier, we do not know if Barnes and Middleton had any connection with their counterparts in the MACUSA Aurors," replied Robards. "We'd rather make sure that you are safe when you travel over there."

"When do I leave?" asked Harry.

"Tonight," stated Robards.

"Bloody hell," muttered Harry. "At least let me go see Fleur."

Robards was about to argue with him when Shacklebolt put out a hand to silence his DMLE director. "That should be fine Harry. And by the way, for her safety, we are strongly recommending that she return to her family in France, once she is safe to travel."

* * *

 **LDW- 12.12**

 _Burning down the house_

* * *

Hermione Granger was seated at a large table in the muggle library in Perth, Australia. She had been searching for her parents, which was not as easy as she had hoped that it would be. But she also had been researching to try and discover just what Kingsley Shacklebolt, the British Minister for Magic, had meant by his message of "28." She had received some help from a librarian here in Australia who was originally from Great Britain.

She was sure that if she wasn't also trying to find her parents that she would have solved the problem of 28 a while ago. But as she opened the next book, she had to stifle a scream of excitement, and Hermione would not permit herself to disrupt the sanctity of a quiet library with an inappropriate cheer.

"I need to warn them all about what is going on," she said quietly, "they need to know this all about the Sacred 28!"

She was about to leave the library when she ran into the librarian who had been helping her. She quickly told the story of what she had figured out and who she had to relay the information to, however she was upset by the response from her first Australian friend.

"But you can't travel back to the UK right now," admonished the librarian. "The ministry has temporarily blocked all magical travel in and out of the country."

Hermione frowned as she collapsed onto a nearby chair, "Bollocks," she said quietly, hoping no one would hear what she had said.

* * *

 _ **AN: Sorry for another long wait in between chapters...but this one is a little longer and keeps the story moving...**_

 **(edited March 2018)**

* * *

Lyrics: © 1983, "Burning Down The House", Talking Heads, Speaking in Tongues, written by: Jerry Harrison, Tina Weymouth, Chris Frantz & David Byrne


	13. Chapter 13 - Pull Up The Roots

**Pull Up The Roots**

* * *

 **LDW-13**

* * *

" _And I don't mind_

 _Whatever happens is fine_

 _Baby likes to keep on playing . . ._

 _What do I know, what do I know?_

 _Wilder than the place we live in . . ._

 _I'll take you there, I'll take you there_

 _I don't mind some slight disorder . . ._

 _Pull up the roots pull up the roots_

 _And I know every living creature . ._

 _Pull up the roots, pull up the roots_ _"_

* * *

**** LDW 13-1 ****

* * *

Harry Potter was walking along the side of the road, tall pine trees on either side. He was amazed by the smell of the trees as he felt the warm breeze brush over him. He walked along the sand and gravel just off to the side of the pavement, his mind reviewing the events that had led him to this place, along a road, apparently in the middle of nowhere in Northern New England. He was a little surprised when he had been contacted just two days prior by Kingsley Shacklebolt, the Minister of Magic, and the director for MI-6. Apparently they had determined that the rogue assault teams were in hiding, and somehow they had also discerned that their primary target at this time was none other than Harry himself. That, as usual went along with the typical Harry Potter luck or fate or karma, or whatever he could attribute all of the misery he continued to have to deal with in his life. Defeating the most powerful dark wizard in recent memory was apparently not enough for him to have accomplished. But this current threat, a specially trained task force, or was it two or three or even four such groups, of combined magical and muggle operatives, had been wreaking havoc across magical Britain, and so soon after the fall of Voldemort. And now that they had made several bold steps, and had been dealt some serious casualties, they had chosen Harry as their next target. Most likely due in part to his assistance of Neville and Hannah in defending her family's home. Although there was still loss of life, including Hannah's father, but there were also significant casualties on the part of the assault team.

But with this threat, it was determined that members of MI-6 might be compromised, that there was possible compromise of intelligence even with the Ministry of Magic; and in addition to these concerns, both groups felt that Harry Potter needed further training to prepare him for the coming battle that was unlikely to pass him by. So somehow, Harry had been persuaded to travel to the United States, for some specialty training from the American magical equivalent of MI-6. Harry had then been quickly placed on a plane to Boston, and had to make a quick goodbye to Fleur, much to the frustration of both of them. Harry had pleaded with her to return to France, at least until either the rogue groups were stopped once and for all, or until Harry had returned, something which she had reluctantly agreed to comply with. Upon arriving in Boston, his luggage had somehow been lost, something which did not surprise Harry too much based on the numbers of rants he had previously heard his uncle spew after several trips of his own via airplane. Then the bus he was taking north broke down somewhere along the way, and the passengers were then stranded in the city of Concord, New Hampshire for a period of time. However, Harry had a timetable to keep up with, and decided to make his way to the previously described rendezvous point with his contact, of which he only had a name, that being Demetrios. And he wondered as to why he was only given one name. Who was this Demetrios? What did he look like? Was he such a powerful wizard within the MACUSA's special forces that he only used one name? Harry's mind focused back on his task, heading north to somewhere near a lake. Harry silently cursed those who had thought that minimal instructions and directions were a good thing. And he muttered silently about not being able to use his broom to get to where he was going as he couldn't take the risk of being seen by the American non-magical population. Harry considered the term non-mag and felt that it was at least not as degrading a term as muggle.

* * *

**** LDW 13-2 ****

* * *

Neville Longbottom was an angry young man. He was considered a timid boy and a probable squib when he was younger. The loss of his parents as being an active part of his life at a young age had affected him deeply. During his years at Hogwarts he had eventually learned confidence and he gained skills beyond what anyone had ever expected of him. He worked hard to protect the other students at Hogwarts during the last year of school, and he proved to be a strong leader. Then he stood up and faced Lord Voldemort at the final battle, eventually leading to killing Nagini, the dark lord's final horcrux. But now some self styled revolutionaries had begun to attack those around Britain, and this had included his own grandmother in addition to the remaining family of his girlfriend, Hannah Abbot.

Neville had seen first hand how destructive the combination of magical and muggle attacks could be, both at his own family's manor and then at the Abbot's home. Neville's anger towards the Lestranges for attacking his parents had resurfaced. He thought that he was over those feelings once the war had ended, and he had helped in defeating Voldemort; and he was not at all unhappy that Bellatrix, Rabastan and Rodolphus Lestrange had all been killed. But these new attacks had made things even more personal.

Neville was pacing in front of the damaged Longbottom Manor, the very place his grandmother had died, while she was giving Neville and Hannah time to escape. Neville had chosen not to have the front of the manor repaired, or at least, not until after this new war with the renegade agents was well and truly ended. For now, he surmised, a partially destroyed manor house that looked uninhabitable would be a good place to set up his home, his base for preparing to avenge the deaths of those he cared about.

The day before, Neville had gone to speak with Minister Shacklebolt and Robards, the head of the Auror department. He was initially surprised when he was rebuffed in his desire to become a part of the Ministry's response to these attacks.

"Like we told Potter," stated Robards, "you're not qualified to work as an Auror."

"I'm not an Auror," Neville had replied, "and I don't intend to become one. I fought to protect my friends and other students at school from the evils of the Death Eaters who took over. I will fight against these upstarts who are no better than that group was, and they claim to be doing this for revenge. I can understand revenge. I wanted to get revenge for what certain individuals had done to my parents. I wanted to get revenge for what these lowly cowards did to my gran. But that isn't what I really want, or need to do. I need to do what I can to help protect my friends, my fellow witches and wizards, whether they are part of the Sacred 28 or not."

"But you're not a trained Auror," countered the minister.

"Doesn't matter," asserted Neville, "I was already made a target. Hannah was made a target. I lost my gran, she lost her parents. You all didn't do anything to stop it. I will do whatever I have to, so that I can see that this comes to an end."

With those words, Neville had left. And he had then returned to his family's estate. Hannah walked up to him from behind him.

"So, Mister Longbottom, what do you have planned?" she asked

Neville took a deep breath before holding out his hand, showing his family ring, "It's Lord Longbottom now, and I will just have to start where I left off in May. Offering protection to those who need it, and begin to work on a plan to avenge those who have died: my family, your family, the Weasley's, everyone."

Hannah did not waste time staring at the ring on his hand, she had expected that he would return here with that, as she knew he had gone to Gringotts earlier in the day. "Well, Nev," she began, "I can't think of a better person than you to lead this effort."

Neville shook his head. "Other than Harry Potter, but apparently he was sent away by the ministry."

Hannah tilted her head in surprise to his words. Neville understood her questioning but silent response.

"I know Harry met with the minister two days ago," he explained. "I also know that as of yesterday, he has disappeared, and Fleur has now left the country. When I went to speak with the minister and with Robards about organising a defence against these attacks, and preparing a fitting and proper reply, I was personally rebuffed. However, Shacklebolt also made a comment about someone already being assigned to prepare for this. I may not have been in Ravenclaw, but I was able to see the message that was hidden. Harry is being trained, secretly, somewhere. While I have no doubt that he will return, and those that have perpetrated these attacks will not want to face him, I will not sit idly about. I didn't, we didn't, do that while Harry was taking care of the things he needed to during the war against Volde, Riddle, and his Death Eaters, and I won't do that now. No, we will, or at least I will prepare to take on these cowardly thugs. And I will do what every I can to protect those who need to be protected. Last year it was muggleborn and half bloods, now it will be the Sacred 28."

Hannah could not imagine how she ended up with such a strong and caring young wizard, but she was not going to complain about being at his side.

* * *

**** LDW 13-3 ****

* * *

 _Towns that disappeared completely . . ._

 _Pull up the roost, pull up the roots_

 _Miles and miles of endless highway . . ._

 _Pull up the roost, pull up the roots_

 _Coloured lights and shiny curtains . . ._

 _I'll take you there, I'll take you there_

 _Everything has been forgiven . . ._

 _Pull up the roots, pull up the roots_

* * *

Harry had managed to get a little farther north, walking along some road with the route number 104, heading towards some town called Meredith. He was feeling hot, and tired, and wondering why in Merlin's name had he actually agreed to this foolishness. Having been sent all alone, to a foreign country, where they couldn't even speak English properly, all to meet up in secret with some mysterious person who would help him train. Maybe hunting horcruxes when he had no idea what they were or where they were located was easier than this journey was turning out to be.

As he was lost in his thought he barely heard the sound of a car pulling off the side of the road near him. The driver honked the horn and Harry turned to see a young woman, or at least someone who appeared to be in their mid twenties or early thirties at the oldest, with long dark hair smile at him.

"Hey there, stranger," called out the woman. "You look lost and tired. Do you need a lift?"

Harry wondered for a moment if he should take the ride, and decided that he should be able to easily handle himself with a muggle, or non-mag woman; and she was offering him a ride, and as he squinted his eyes in the afternoon sun he quickly discerned that she was not at all unattractive. "Sure, a ride sounds great," he replied with a smile.

"My name's Staci," she said as she reached over and opened the passenger door to her black convertible.

"Hi," he replied. "I'm Harry. I'm heading past Meredith, towards Ossipee."

She smiled at him as he slid into the seat and closed the door. "I'm heading that way," she answered with a big smile of her own. "So, you're not from around here," she said as she prepared to head back onto the road.

"How did you guess?" he asked, clearly joking as his British accent was a bit of a give away.

"Don't get many 'blokes' around here who talk like you do," she said.

Harry smiled at the comment and sat back as she took off driving down the road. He enjoyed the wind blowing through his hair, this being the first time he was ever riding in a convertible.

"Hey, there's a restaurant up ahead," stated Staci, "do you need to get a bite to eat?"

Harry didn't have to think long about that either. "Actually, that sounds great."

"Hope you like turkey," she added.

It was only a few minutes later that the two of them were walking into the Hart's Turkey Farm Restaurant, and Harry was wondering what he was going to do after this. He wasn't sure how far this woman was going, or where she was heading, but he was not going to complain about her hospitality. They were quickly seated at a small table and handed a couple of menus when Harry noticed Staci smiling at him.

"So, Harry Potter, you weren't as hard to find as I had expected you would be," stated his companion.

Harry's jaw dropped slightly.

"Relax, I put up privacy wards around our table," continued Staci. "By the way, my full name is Anastasia Demetrios, special agent with the MACUSA Aurors division. I was informed that you were coming here to get some training."

Harry shook his head.

"Not exactly what you were expecting, am I?" came the rhetorical question from Staci.

"No, not at all," stated Harry, trying to regain his wits and then allowing himself to smile. "Honestly, I was figuring on some guy named Demetrios, or Demitri for short."

Staci smiled at him and then she leaned back in her chair, skimmed over the menu, and suggested that he just order the turkey dinner. After the waitress took their orders, she then began to speak about the upcoming training. "First of all, don't worry about your stuff. The bags and all that, we'll have it to you later today. Second, we'll be arriving at our destinations shortly, I mean not long after we finish here. And they were never really lost, we just wanted to make sure they didn't get looked at closely by the non-mag airport employees, just in case you had anything magical hidden away in them."

Harry nodded in understanding. "So, then, where exactly are we going?" he then wondered out loud.

"Oh, we'll be going to a little family campground," she said with a smirk. "Although, our little tent will only appear that way to the nearby muggles, and we will have plenty of places to work on your training."

"At a public campground?" Harry was shaking his head in confusion.

"We will be staying at the campground, and taking advantages of the many things that the area has to offer," stated the woman who shook her head at Harry. "You are a wizard, and from what I have heard, a fairly imaginative one at that. We will have access to everything we need right there."

"Couldn't we have done this somewhere closer to Boston, or New York or something? I mean, even if we weren't directly in one of those cities, there has got to be some place closer," said Harry as he tried to understand why they were heading to this public area int he middle of nowhere.

Staci smiled again at the young wizard sitting across from her. "I was warned about you," she admonished. "First of all, you're not even supposed to be here, in the States, that is. In fact, officially the MACUSA does not even know you are here. Second of all, the MACUSA is not taking sides in this little fight going on over there in 'jolly old England.' Well, they are _officially_ not taking sides." She paused when she noticed Harry's confused expression. She narrowed her eyes slightly and then she continued. "The renegade teams of wizards and no-mag from your government's MI-6 group clearly have connections within the British Secret service organisations as well as within your magical government. Any information passed along is potentially at risk for being seen or heard by those rogue groups. So, your being here is completely hush-hush. Therefor, we will need to make do with the facilities here in Northern New England. Third, I think we're at the third point, is that we need to make sure that you are not seen by any magical person while you are here. Yes, you would be recognised, even over here, or at least you might be. Fourth, and most important, I like it up here."

Harry relaxed a little more as the two of them discussed more mundane issues, such as the weather, magical sports in the United States, and the general area of northern New England. Soon they had finished their meal and they were back on their way north. Staci drove them down some winding roads and eventually they came to a road lined with tall pine trees. Harry had never really noticed such smells before, not having had the time to enjoy his time on his 'camping trip' with Hermione the previous year. The road then came to an area with open fields on either side, and Harry could tell that there was some sort of summer camp to the right as there were groups of kids doing various sports. To his left, there was an open field and on the outskirts there was all sorts of tents and campers. He was surprised when Staci pulled the car into the campground area. She stepped out and briefly spoke with the manager at the campground office, and then she drove the car around back and stopped in front of a numbered campsite that had trees lining three sides of it, offering it a little more privacy compared to many of the other campsites.

Harry got out of the car and raised an eyebrow. Staci smiled at him, then she popped open the trunk of the car and pulled out a tent, which she started to set up with only a little help from Harry.

"So, is this one of those magical tents?" wondered Harry.

Staci frowned at him, "Harry, we're in the middle of a non-mag campground, with a kids summer camp right across the road. I am not about to set up a magical tent in such a location."

Harry was hoping to see if the Americans had fancier magical tents than what he had and Hermione had used. He wasn't sure what to think, but soon they had finished setting up the dome tent.

"It is larger than we would normally need, as it is just the two of us, but a 6 person dome tent gives more room for our things," pointed out Staci. "And this one even had a s divider in the middle of it."

She then carried a small duffle out of the back of the car, and brought it into the tent. Harry followed her into the tent, and she then zipped the door closed. Silently she opened the duffle and pulled out two small boxes. She placed them on either side of the tent, and then her wand appeared in her hand. With a quick flick of her wrist both boxes grew into magical trunks. Harry hesitated to comment on her silent spell casting.

Staci pointed to the trunk closest to Harry. "That one is yours. Go ahead, open it up. I do believe you are familiar with magical trunks. Yours is a special designed trunk used only by top level Aurors over here."

Harry wasn't sure what to say, but he went to open the lid of the trunk but it was latched. Noticing his frustration Staci added, "It is already keyed to you. You will need to use your wand and set a new password, then you can open it, and only you can do that. And yes, it was programmed to recognise your magical signature."

"Shouldn't that be enough?" asked Harry. "My magical signature that is."

Staci audibly sighed. "If we were already able to set it up to accept your magical signature, how secure would leaving it like that really be?"

"Oh, good point," replied Harry.

A minute later he cast a quick spell to set his password and then he proceeded to open the trunk. There were steps leading down, and he tentatively began to walk inside. Harry was actually surprised at how well the expansion charms had worked. He soon found a sitting room, a kitchen, a large bedroom and a smaller bedroom in addition to a library. He walked into what he presumed was his room, the larger of the bedrooms and was actually surprised to find all of his baggage from the airplane that was supposedly lost. Everything of his was just how he had packed it. He then went to explore his library and was impressed with the number of magical reference books that were already there, and briefly considered how jealous his friend Hermione would be at seeing the extent of what he now had available to him. Harry then made his way out of the trunk and back into the tent, finding Staci sitting on her trunk with a smirk on her face.

"So, how did you like your little trunk?"

"It's brilliant!" he exclaimed. He was about to ask how they had managed to get his personal belongings into the trunk, but stopped himself as he was sure that the only answer he would get would be one word: magic. Besides, he chided himself, she had mentioned that the MACUSA had already taken care of his luggage.

Staci smiled slightly and then she stood up. "Just remember, always leave the trunk closed when we leave the tent. And we will be spending a lot of time not here in the tent, but working on your training, both magical and physical."

"Physical?" wondered Harry.

"Yeah, physical training," answered Staci as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. "You need to improve your stamina, you need to be more fit. That will also help your magical core and magical stamina. Apparently that is pretty much ignored in your part of the magical world. Bunch of lazy Brits."

* * *

**** LDW 13-4 ****

* * *

An old abandoned warehouse in Liverpool was an unlikely place to find a group of men hiding. They had already arranged for magical warding to prevent anyone from finding them as well as muggle style alarms to prevent anyone non magical from stumbling across them. Regis Barnes was grateful that he had made arrangements for several of these safe houses without MI-5 or MI-6 knowing about them, which meant that this new MI-13 should not be able to locate them.

Barnes was surveying their newest headquarters. There were still several men who were recovering form their recent injuries, including his own team members - Mills who had a leg injury, and Starks who had a shoulder wound. Members of Team Omega had also been injured, but they had mostly suffered minor injuries.

Team Beta had been decimated during their attack at Abbot Manor. They had left the body of Rodgers behind, with the gaping hole in his chest. Three other men were severely injured, two had died from their wounds already and third man, Giles, was clinging to life with IV fluids running into him after Middleton and Smythe had done initial magical healing spells on him.

Team Delta had taken no injuries from their excursions to track down Slughorn and capture the Carrow twins. The teenaged girls were being held in a separate room, without access to their wands and a magical dampening field was in place based on a ward system.

Barnes contemplated the further experience of Team Delta, and how they had made their attack on Grimmauld Place, as there were only minor injuries from a cauldron and boiling liquid. The golem and the banshee had only managed to slow down their assault which enabled that brat, Potter, to once again escape. Barnes frowned at the idea that using Zacharias Smith for further assistance would likely be more difficult if Potter actually figured out that was the one who marked him with the tracking rune.

However, Barnes was grateful that the surviving members of the teams were all of one mind in that they still wanted to avenge the deaths of their family members that had been taken out by the Death Eaters under the direction of Voldemort. Their battle was now going to be more difficult as they were on the run from both MI-13, and from the British Ministry of Magic. But Barnes and Middleton had been preparing for just such a scenario, and he allowed himself a brief smile as he considered how all of their advanced planning was finally showing its worth.

He called the group together, as he did every day at noon.

"We will need to work on planning our next series of attacks," he began, "but we will need to lay low for a while, and we will need to act with stealth when we do make our next move. MI-13 and the Aurors from the Ministry of Magic will both be looking for us now. But taking our time will allow us to heal and to recover, and then set our next targets."

The men all nodded in response to his words. Middleton then spoke up, "Remember, men, this is _not_ about us. This is about the family members _we all lost_ in the previous magical wars. The Ministry of Magic chose to ignore the damage done to you who are non magical. They chose to not act to stop the discrimination against those who were not Pureblooded magicals. They chose to allow the Sacred 28 to continue to control their society and walk all over any whom they saw as lesser than them, be it half bloods, muggle born, or muggles themselves. They thought for years they could act this way with impunity. Our own government essentially did nothing to step in when they learned about the attacks against non magicals. Therefor, we know that we will continue to fight for retribution, for the memories of our loved ones and families."

The men gave a cheer in response to the words of their two leaders. Silently Barnes breathed a little easier, relieved that he still had the support and faith of his specially chosen and trained men.

* * *

**** LDW 13-5 ****

* * *

Tony Blair and Kingsley Shacklebolt had been in a conference room all morning. They had been reviewing the reports that they each had from their respective heads of departments; for Blair that was the head of MI-13, and for Shacklebolt that was the head of the DMLE. They were initially surprised that the two groups had reached the same conclusions.

Barnes and Middleton had clearly been planning these attacks against the pureblood wizards, the Sacred 28, as a means of revenge against what the Death Eaters had done during the previous wars. They had carefully selected men to join their team who had suffered losses of loved ones and family members at the hands of the Death Eaters. For many of the muggle MI-5 members, they did not initially know or understand what had happened to their families. However, Barnes and Middleton were able to provide enough information to their team members to generate loyalty to them, as opposed to their superiors within MI-5. Once it was clear that MI-13 would be officially sanctioned and that there was once again collateral damage within the muggle world at the hands of the wizards and witches who were Death Eaters, it wasn't hard to get the group to fanatically follow the two charismatic wizards who had also lost their families to the pureblood supremacists. In fact, one of the analysts within MI-6 who was brought in to help review what had happened had pointed out that the apparent selection of the Sacred 28 as a target served a two fold purpose. First it would give them someone to blame for the rise of the Death Eaters, and second it would give them an active target even if the Death Eaters were truly eliminated or outlawed.

The head of the Department of Mysteries within the British Ministry of Magic had also pointed out that these two must have gained significant magical training after leaving Hogwarts as they had been able to make themselves untraceable by most magical means. The report was reviewed by one of the members of Q division and they pointed out that the combinations of magic and technology which they had been working on could also have given them this same advantage.

The two government leaders each had only two of their own advisors present at this point. Tony Blair looked around the room, took a deep breath, and then offered up his question. "Now that we have reviewed all of this information, and we understand how dangerous this group is, and we understand a little more of their motivation and their current agenda, what do you propose that we do about it all? After all, I don't think we can put this to bed with a simple series of meetings and signing an accord. This is not Ireland."

Kingsley leaned back in his chair, awaiting the responses from his own advisors. Gawain Robards looked around the room and cleared his throat. "Well, clearly these individuals have done their homework and they have already made themselves difficult to locate. But assuming we can locate them, they have essentially made themselves enemies of the Ministry of Magic, whether it be an act of war or terroristic activities, they simply must be stopped."

M, who was still the director of MI-13, responded with a thin smile and then spoke up. "Of course they must be stopped. However, the people within my division are the ones we must catch. They clearly must be considered traitors to both the Queen and the Ministry of Magic. I would like nothing more than to apprehend them all and run them up on charges of treason and terrorism and murder. Not to mention numerous other counts I am sure we can determine."

Saul Croaker, the Director of the Department of Mysteries shook his head slightly. "If only it would be so simple. Locating the rebels is a difficult task at best. Perhaps with some combined efforts between my department and Q division we might be able to discern a method of tracking them. However, I am not particularly optimistic about the outcome of such an endeavour. But the most concerning issue is that we do know their agenda, yet we do not know who they will be going after next. Mr. Potter has been declared, based on their own actions, as their number one target. Currently he is out of their reach and perhaps we will have his services in the not too distant future as we prepare to bring this fight back to those who started it. The Sacred 28, or those who remain at this time, are also targets. They will need to be protected to the best of our abilities, but we do not yet have a magical means to protect them from the sort of attacks which they have been utilising."

Q then spoke up. "It seems that we may benefit from working together. While we do not have available to us much of the anti-magic weaponry which these renegades have been using, we do have the technology behind it."

Tony Blair leaned forward and looked at Q directly. "Do you have a proposal then for us? How do you recommend we proceed?"

Kingsley spoke up after listening to the discussions before Q was able to respond. "Perhaps we need Q division to work with the DOM to come up with a strategy for defending against these groups, and MI-13 working with the DMLE can come up with a plan for putting an end to the threats that they pose once and for all."

There was a series of quick glances as everyone looked around the room at each other. Finally the Prime Minister spoke up again. "Then we are all agreed. I expect to hear progress reports, in this room, within 3 days. Q Division will work with the DOM, and MI-13 will coordinate their efforts with the DMLE. Now, everyone, get to work!"

* * *

**** LDW 13-6 ****

* * *

 _Well I have a good time . . . when I go out of my mind_

 _And it's a wonderful place . . . and I can't wait to be there_

 _And I hear beautiful sounds . . . coming outa the ground_

 _Gonna take us a while . . . but we'll go hundreds of times_

* * *

The sun was barely rising as Harry panted his way to the top of the ridge. Some place called Jackman's Ridge, behind the campground. He imagined as he stood atop the open rock surface with a view of the sun rising over the trees to the east that a leisurely hike up this trail would have been much more enjoyable. As he sucked in another large breath of air, he heard Staci call out to him.

"You better keep moving, Potter, we haven't got all day. I didn't realise just how much I would need to whip your ass into shape when they gave me this assignment," she quipped.

Harry turned and glared at the woman. "This is the third day in a row, and you're only increasing what we have to do each day."

Staci walked up to him and looked him straight in the eye, her nose just inches from his. "I told you, you need to increase your physical stamina so we can work on your magical core, which will increase your magical power and reserves."

"But we haven't done any magic yet," he complained.

"That's because I need to get you into shape first, so that I can be sure you can handle the magic," she snapped. "Now stand up, and we're going to jog down to the beach. You did bring your swim trunks with you, didn't you? Now you will start swimming laps as well."

Harry groaned as he had more work to do. He wasn't that great of a swimmer, having only learned the basics before having to participate in the Triwizard Tournament's second task. There were a few other people swimming laps at the nearby summer camp swim area when Harry and Staci arrived at the beach for the campground. Harry made his way into the water tentatively and then he started to swim. Staci watched him for a minute and shook her head.

Calling out to him she walked out to where he was in the water. Harry stood up and stared at the woman wearing a black one piece bathing suit. If he hadn't noticed how beautiful she was prior to this, it clearly was not escaping his mind now.

A slap to his face caught his attention. "Potter, look at my face, not my chest," she admonished. She didn't even wait for an apology as she was sure he was now too embarrassed to say anything useful. "Apparently you don't know much about swimming." Again, not waiting for a reply, she quickly explained a few basics of the front crawl, then she demonstrated the stroke for him.

His face no longer quite so flushed, he dove back into the water and restarted swimming laps back and forth across thee swimming area, at a much improved pace and with much less effort than he had done before.

An hour later the two were sitting by their tent, enjoying a little breakfast which Staci had prepared. Looking up from her bowl of oatmeal, she eyed the young wizard across from her before speaking up. "You know, Potter, for someone who is supposed to be so prodigious with their magic, having won that damned fool Triwizard competition thing, defeated trolls and magical snakes, and then taking out that dark lord earlier this year, I would have expected you to be a little more with it when it comes to all of this physical stuff."

Harry let out a long sigh and looked up from his oatmeal, not sure what to make of this American idea for breakfast. "It was the Triwizard Tournament, which was a misnomer once I was forced to enter. And I was mostly lucky to have won, let alone survive the damned thing." He looked at his instructor for a moment before adding, "Besides, how do you know so much about me anyway?"

Staci laughed slightly at that question. "Come on, get real. I work for a special division within the MACUSA Aurors. Kind of like the equivalent of the non-mag CIA."

Harry had a blank expression on his face in response to her comments.

She rolled her eyes before adding, "Kind of like the British MI-5 or 6 or whatever, but within the magical world."

Harry's face showed that he was starting to understand. "But how does," he stuttered, "but why would that mean you know about me?"

"It's our job to know about what is going on elsewhere in the world of magic," she stated as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"If the MACUSA knew what was going on in magical Britain with Riddle and his Death Eaters, then why didn't you help?"

Staci laughed at the question, before getting a serious look. "Simply because the British Ministry of Magic refused to let anyone help. Your former minister, Fudge was it, he was a real piece of work. It's amazing you all survived having him as your Minister for Magic."

"Don't I know it," stated Harry, recalling the idiocy of Fudge's denial of the events at the end of his fourth year and the tournament. Then he looked back at Staci. "Besides, I barely survived that tournament."

"So I have heard," she stated simply. "Being used as part of a resurrection ritual and then having to face down that creature must have been harrowing at best." After a slight pause she added, "So, exactly how did you beat him that night when he came back? We've never been able to get a straight answer or come up with an explanation."

Harry rubbed his face with his hand slightly before answering the question. "It was a bit of luck and good fortune," he began. "Our wands were linked, they shared a common core. So when he went to attack me and I used the only spell I really knew, the spells collided and connected our wands. I then realised I was in a fight for my life, and pushed the spells towards his wand. I managed to disconnect the spells and jumped away, grabbing the portly that brought us there, and the body of Cedric, the real Hogwarts Champion, who had been killed when we arrived there."

"Impressive," she stated, leading to a confused look on Harry's face.

"It's impressive that our wands shared the same core?"

"No, not that," she said with a smile, "but that a, what were you, fourteen at the time? That a fourteen year old could summon the will power to throw off a curse from such a powerful wizard."

Harry wasn't sure how to react to that comment.

However, Staci continued, "So, then, its true you killed a mountain troll when you were just eleven?"

Harry nodded sheepishly, not liking to talk about himself or brag. "Again, mostly luck there, trying to save a friend. Well, she wasn't really a friend before that night, but we became best friends after that. Besides, it wasn't like I did that on my own, I did have help."

Staci raised an eyebrow at that comment.

Harry then added, "But, yeah, he was another first year student, like me."

"That's not help, that's luck," she added, "or pure magical power. So then, tell me about this magical snake you killed the following year."

Harry tilted his head a little as he tried to grasp how much she really knew about him. "Well, if you call a basilisk a magical snake, then yeah, I was twelve when I fought that thing."

"Well, the little one's are just as poisonous as any big ones, so I suppose the size of the snake doesn't make a difference," she stated, "and a basilisk _is_ a basilisk."

Harry narrowed his eyes as he considered her comments, then he shook his head slightly. "Umm, just how big does the MACUSA think the basilisk was that I killed that year?"

"Oh, it's been debated among people in my department, and they even debated whether it was a basilisk or an enchanted python or even just a magical fire salamander," she stated. "But, hey you were twelve, was it, so most people figured it would have been at least ten feet long, maybe fifteen. Quite the deadly beast either way."

Harry laughed at her comments.

"What's so funny?" she demanded.

Harry took a deep breath before he explained further. "The basilisk was bred and raised by Salazar Slytherin himself, so clearly it was over 1000 years old."

Staci couldn't stop herself from a slight audible gasp.

"So, I think it was about 20 to 30 meters or so," added Harry, "which would be about 60 or 70 feet long."

Staci was once again surprised to learn the truth. She briefly considered that he could be making this up just to try and impress her, but that thought was quickly discarded as it had been clear that despite everything he had been through, being a hero to magical Britain on multiple occasions already in his short life that he had no reason to exaggerate. "So, then, how does a twelve year old boy defeat such a dangerous and monstrous creature?"

"Again, with a lot of luck and a little help," he stated. "My school's headmaster, he had a phoenix. Well, Fawkes, that was the phoenix, he appeared in the chamber and he managed to blind the basilisk so I wouldn't be killed just by its gaze. And the phoenix kind of gave me a weapon, a special magical sword. And the basilisk was about to eat me so I stabbed it inside its mouth, right into its brain, and so, yeah, I killed it. But it nearly killed me as it bit me with one of its fangs."

"You survived basilisk venom? From a 1,000 year old basilisk?" she asked incredulously.

"Again, I had a little help with that," he stated, "as Fawkes cried into my wound, and it saved me from dying."

Now Staci was rubbing her face and took a deep breath. "So you have basilisk venom and phoenix tears coursing through your veins."

Harry gave a puzzled expression. "Umm, no, the phoenix tears healed me from the venom. Or at least that's what I was told."

Staci just stared at the teen in front of her, no young man, for a minute. "Basilisk venom is magical and one of the most powerful poisons known to wizard kind. You can't just destroy it. It doesn't really have an antidote. Phoenix tears, also are a magical essence. They are probably both still coursing through your blood even today. Essentially you may be immune to potions, or at least poisons, and your blood may be dangerous to others."

"Then how come it didn't kill Voldemort, I mean Riddle?"

Staci didn't respond at first to Harry's question.

"My blood, it was used as part of the ritual to bring him back, at the end of my fourth year, three years ago," explained Harry.

"Now, that is a question that I can't answer," she declared. "Now, while I do want to hear more about your various adventures, we need to finish breakfast and then get started on your magical training."

Harry's eyes lit up, "We're finally going to be learning magic!"

"Not so loud, Potter, er, Harry," she admonished, "there are a lot of no-mag around here."

Harry nodded at her comments. "So, yeah, it's just that we've been here for several days already and we haven't done any magic yet."

Once they had completed cleaning up after their breakfast, Staci led the way across the road towards the camp. They made their way down the road between the soccer field and softball field and passed some tennis courts. The path then became sand and they came into a large open area with an old barn converted into a meeting hall to their left, the lake in front of them and a row of cabins to their right. There were kids doing activities all around, at the waterfront, and in what appeared to be a couple of special cabins for arts and crafts as opposed to cabins that the campers would be staying in.

"Follow me," stated Staci as she made her way behind the hall.

Harry at a quick glimpse inside and saw rows of benches in front of a stage at the far end, then quickly he caught up to his teacher. Staci then went to a door that appeared to go into the back of the stage area from the outside. She took a quick look around, and when she saw that no one was around, she quickly waved her wand in front of the door. There was an appearance of a wave, like heat coming off from a highway in the middle of the summer on a sunny day, in front of the door. She opened the door and quietly instructed Harry to close the door quickly behind him.

When he stepped inside the entryway and closed the door behind him he felt like he had double vision. There were stairs leading up to the back of the stage, and another set of stairs leading down. Staci was walking down the stairs, seemingly walking through the ones that went up.

"It's a little bit disconcerting at first," she said, noticing the look on his face. "This double image was some jerks idea of something funny when the illusions were cast hiding our training room here. It'll all be fine once we enter the training room."

She then opened a door at the bottom of the stairs and entered a large and open room. Harry followed her in and the disorientation feeling immediately passed. He gazed around the room and it immediately reminded him of the room of requirement, a large open area that could be changed to suit one's needs.

"So, this is the training room?" he asked rhetorically.

"Yes, I have heard rumours that your school has something similar," she answered, "or at least it used to, until _you_ last visited that place."

Harry spun around and looked at her, realising that she must have heard about his confrontation with Draco and his goons while trying to get the Ravenclaw Diadem and the subsequent casting of Fiendfyre by Goyle. "So, you have heard of Hogwarts' Room of Requirement then? And this is similar?"

Staci smiled as she walked away from him. "If you mean can this room create what we want and need? Then yes, it is similar. I can call forth attack dummies, including creatures and wizards that interact more lifelike than simple robotic manifestations of magic. I can call forth any sort of terrain or environment."

Suddenly the room had turned into a large field, or more accurately a savannah. Harry was startled when he realised that a pack of jackals was rapidly approaching him. He then had his wand in his hand and began to cast blasting curses at the animals that were snarling and circling him. Harry then changed to a fire whip attack when they started getting closer. While he was taking down several of the ferocious beasts he was knocked forward as one of the jackals had jumped him from behind. He felt a stabbing pain in his shoulder as the animal sunk its jaws into him. Then the room went black.

Harry felt a little dizzy and his shoulder ached as the room around him came back into view. He was sitting on the floor and Staci was seated on a chair facing him, shaking her head back and forth.

"You have a lot to learn about using your magic," she admonished. "Apparently no one ever taught you about battle magic, about strategy, about playing to win, or even about how to survive."

Harry looked up at her as he grimaced and rubbed his shoulder with his left hand.

Staci smiled at him slightly, "Don't worry, its just a magical injury. No real lasting damage there. You will be fine soon. But you do need to learn how to fight, both magically and non magically. It's a wonder you survived the past few years at all."

"Well, as I said before, apparently luck was my friend, despite how much fate laughs at me and spits in my face," he growled.

Staci just looked at him silently for several minutes, studying his features. "This room will be your library in the evenings. You will find books on strategy, as well as offensive and defensive magic. Much more detailed then what you have in your trunk. During the days we will work on learning and practicing magic. We don't have a lot of time here though. The rebels in your homeland will soon be active again. You need to be ready for them. So once we teach you how to fight with magic, then we will teach you how to fight the muggles, by using magic."

"But you can't defend against muggle weapons with magic," protested Harry.

Staci let out a laugh. "Who told you that? Your DMLE, or your previous leader, Dumbledore? How do you summon an object with a spell? How do you cause damage to a physical object with a blasting curse? With magic. With the right magic. If we can use magic to influence the world around us, then why not use it to protect us from the most dangerous of attacks? Considering the very predicament your country and your ministry find themselves in, it seems to me that muggleborn, as you call them, wizards are a little better at thinking outside of the box when it comes to the use of magic."

"But the protego shield doesn't stop things like bullets," argued Harry.

Staci smirked at the young man in front of her. "Can that shield stop debris from a blasting hex hitting something in front of you?"

Harry was suddenly feeling rather unsure of himself. "Well, yeah, it can…"

Staci continued to smirk, "And can it stop a simple stunner?"

Harry nodded, "But of course."

"And can it stop an overpowered bludgeoning hex?"

Harry was becoming more unsure of himself. "No, or maybe, if the one who cast the protego shield put enough magical energy into it."

"That is part of the problem," stated Staci. "Magical power. For the shield to stop something, it must have more power, magical or physical, than the object or spell it is intended to block." She let her words sink in for a moment before she continued. "While a bullet may be small, the physics involved with such a small object travelling so fast would mean that it clearly has a lot of energy. Or to use the term we have been using, it has a lot of power. And that power will be focused in a very small area on the shield."

Harry ran his hand through his hair as he considered her words. "Then how is a magical shield going to be able to stop a bullet, or some other such thing?"

Staci laughed at him and his question. "You, young man, are getting ahead of yourself. Oh, we will get to those types of shields or other protections. But you need to develop your physical and magical strength. So, we will start there."

Before Harry realised it, he was being tasked with many physical and magical exercises. This hidden room underneath the large meeting hall was able to provide both physical and magical tests for Harry. After a few hours of hard work and having worked up a sweat, Staci let Harry take a rest and a table appeared with water and a small meal of fruit and sandwiches.

Harry spent the next several hours learning to dodge spells that Staci seemed to effortlessly cast in his direction. Eventually she allowed him to use a magical shield in addition to simply dodging the spells, but that was after he had already been grazed by multiple stinging hexes. After a long and full day of continued duelling practice Staci finally told Harry that they were done for now. Harry had assumed that it would have been time for dinner by now and he had definitely worked up quite an appetite.

As he climbed up the steps and headed outside of their secret basement training site, Harry was surprised to find that it was noon time and the sun was high in the sky. He turned to look at Staci for an explanation.

Reading the surprise and question on his face, she explained, "There is a time dilation field down inside the training hall. Yes, we spent the equivalent of 8 hours of practicing while only 4 hours passed here. We'll need to maximise your time in training to make up for the sorry excuse of an education before you arrived here."

So, that began Harry's schedule of two days worth of magical training between his breakfast in the morning and his evening meal as the sun was setting.

After the first gruelling week of two days of training crammed into one day, with all of his magical training starting after his early morning physical workouts of running and swimming, Harry was starting to feel the strain. On Thursday evening, Harry was surprised when they finished their afternoon of magical training a little early.

"I'm giving you a little break," announced Staci. "Get cleaned up, I'm taking you out for a little treat. You do like pizza, don't you?"

An hour later they had pulled up in her little sports car to the dirt parking lot of an old barn converted into a pizza restaurant. Stepping inside, Harry saw rows of wooden picnic tables lined up throughout the large room. There was music playing from a juke box on one side, and several of the tables were filled with young men and women who seemed to be about Harry's age or a little older. Staci noted Harry's expression as he searched the inside of the pizza barn and led him to one of the long tables. Sitting down across from him, she pointed out that most of the young people here this night were probably counsellors from the summer camp where they were staying and doing their training. She then walked up to the counter, ordered some pizza for them as well as a pitcher of root beer, then returned to the table.

Harry was relaxing and taking in the scene around him when a young man with dark hair down to near his shoulders, and a goatee sat down next to him, pushing him slightly to the side as he faced Staci.

"Hey, there, pretty lady," spoke the dark haired young man, "I haven't seen you here before."

Harry was about to say something but Staci gave him a quick look to silence him.

"With customers as rude as you," she replied casually, "perhaps this isn't a place I would want to come back to."

Before the man could answer, a thin woman with short cropped reddish-brown hair sat down next to him. "Now, Jonathan, you behave, and stop being rude to these nice people."

Jonathan started to turn a little red and cleared his throat. "I was just wanting to welcome these two here," he countered. "They're clearly not with our group from camp."

The woman glared at him then slapped him lightly on the wrist and then she turned to Staci, "I'm sorry for his boorish behaviour, but my boyfriend here, and I'm not sure he's going to be keeping that title much longer, thinks he is a real ladies man. But usually he's a nice guy. Spends too much time out in the woods leading hikes and canoe trips, so I think he forgets how to treat others properly with respect."

Staci smiled slightly at the woman who was sitting next to Jonathan.

"Oh, I'm Renee," she said offering her hand to Staci, "and I'm sure this idiot never even introduced himself."

Staci smiled as she shook the woman's hand. "Nice to meet you, Renee. I'm Staci and this is Harry."

Harry replied with a quick "Hi, nice to meet you both."

"Oh, you're not from these parts at all," commented Jonathan who slid a little further away from Harry so as not to crowd him anymore.

"No, I'm from England," stated Harry.

"He's just here to experience a little American education and some of our American culture," added Staci.

"Oh, you're British," commented Renee, "sorry about Diana. She was really popular over here."

Harry gave her a confused look for a moment, "Oh, yeah, you mean Princess Diana. Well, that was last year, and I have been a little preoccupied with other things recently."

Someone then called over to Jonathan and Renee, telling them that their pizza was ready. Jonathan called back, "Be right there, Joe." Then he turned to Harry as he stood up from the bench, "Yeah, well, good luck to you man, and while it looks like your girl here is quite a few years older than you, she's still hot, man. Later, dude."

Then he spun away, and Renee just rolled her eyes at Jonathan before she said a polite goodbye, "It's okay Harry," she added, "no one here cares how much older your girlfriend is."

Harry turned and looked at Staci, "So, are all Americans like that?"

Staci was now a little red in the face. "I am not your girlfriend," she stated emphatically. "And yeah, a lot of them can be like that."

Harry smiled, "Besides, what's the big deal, you only look like you're 22 or so, that's not much of a difference in age."

"I may be 26, but you are definitely _not_ my boyfriend," she protested.

* * *

**** LDW 13-7 ****

* * *

Barnes and Middleton were discussing their options. The survivors had mostly recovered by now. They had their list of targets. Team Beta was clearly a loss. Giles had survived, and that only barely, so he and Smythe would be working with Team Delta. The men had drafted a list of the priorities for their next targets.

"Are we sure that the tracking runes attached to the clothes of those other wizards and witches from the party last month are still viable?" asked Barnes.

"We have no reason to suspect that they wouldn't be," replied Smythe.

Middleton coughed slightly and shook his head.

Smythe took offence at the response from the other team leader. "Why would those markers not be active? We had researched how to make those tracking runes, and how to launch them, and there is no reason for them to degrade, not even for years to come."

Barnes looked at his friend, "Why don't you handle this one, Andy, seeing as how you already have reacted to our young colleague's response."

Smythe looked back and forth between the two, waiting for the explanation that he was now sure he would be receiving.

Middleton shook his head once more and then looked at Smythe. "We attacked Longbottom, at his manor, and killed his grandmother. We attacked Abbot manor, and that went pear shaped almost immediately. We even were able to attack Potter himself, hiding out in a hidden residence of the Black family. While the fools within the ministry may not have any idea how we tracked anyone to those three places, nor would they have anyway of detecting our runes, those are three major attacks. The Ministry of Magic has already declared us fugitives. And they have already warned the remaining members of the Sacred 28. Our time for surprise is over. So, even if those tracking runes are still active, they will be expecting any attack on the ones we have already marked."

Smythe nodded in his understanding of the situation. "Then what are we to do?"

Barnes spoke up in response, "We must continue to use stealth and ingenuity, something which the ministry and the DMLE are severely limited in using. We will persevere in our struggle against the oppression of the pureblood wizards. And we will prevail. While they may be expecting some sort of attack, they won't know where, or when, or how. And the wizards are still not prepared for a combined magical and mundane attack."

* * *

**** LDW 13-8 ****

* * *

 _Baby likes to keep on playing . . ._

 _What d'you know? what d'you I know?_

 _Wilder than the place we live in . . ._

 _I'll take you there, I'll take you there_

 _And I don't mind some slight disorder . . ._

 _Pull up the roots pull up the roots_

 _And no more time for talking it over . . ._

 _Pull up the roots, pull up the roots_

* * *

Harry and Staci were again practicing in the training room under the meeting hall of the summer camp. Harry had been learning skills on how to generate shields to defend not only magical attacks but physical attacks. Harry was initially skeptical that a magical shield could be powerful enough to stop a bullet. While he had not taken muggle high school science, he had learned a little about physics, including force and momentum. For the danger and lethality of being hit by a bullet was not based so much on its weight but on the velocity with which it hit its target.

Sensing Harry's frustration, Staci stopped him and began with asking him some questions about what they were doing, about the shields and about the attack dummies launching small rubber pellets at him. She went on to explain that he needed the proper intent for his shields, and then to trust his magic to do the rest.

Harry nodded, as he tried to grasp the concept. Staci then began to cast more attacks at him, including having the shield prepared to absorb the energy of a small pinpoint attack by spreading the energy out across the entire field.

As several rubberised bullets came shooting at him from an attack dummy to his left, Harry concentrated on sending forth a shield that would absorb the energy of the small projectiles. Worried that he might get hurt by the rubber pellets, Harry ending up overpowering the shield. His magical shield burst forth from his wand and accelerated across the room towards the attack dummy that had shot at him. In the blink of an eye his shield not only stopped the rubber bullets, but then obliterated the attack dummy and then slammed into the wall behind the dummy. A large section of the floor gave way from the effects of his shield and a blinding white light shot up from underneath the area. Harry held up his hand to block the light that emanated throughout the room, and then everything went blank.

* * *

 **AN: Sorry about the long delay. Life gets busy. And then there was an issue getting this chapter to work right. It was going to continue even longer, but I decided recently to break it up...with a tiny cliff hanger.**

 **I will continue to work on this story, but for November I will be starting on my next story for NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month...).**

 **Hope you all enjoy this update.**

 **-X**

* * *

Lyrics: © 1983, "Pull Up The Roots", Talking Heads, Speaking in Tongues, written by: Jerry Harrison, Tina Weymouth, Chris Frantz & David Byrne

* * *

 **AN: I received one review claiming I was plagiarising by including the lyrics (partial lyrics) from various Talking Heads songs in each of my chapters. I have now added citation references crediting The Talking Heads, and the specific writers of the specific songs, at the end of each chapter...**


	14. Chapter 14 - The Good Thing

**The Good Thing**

 _I will fight; will fight with my heart._

 _I will fight; will fight with understanding._

 _In my mind, the weather never changes_

 _Skill overcomes, difficult situations._

 _A straight line exists between me and the good things._

 _I have found the line and its direction is known to me._

 _Absolute trust keeps me going in the right direction._

 _Any intrusion is met with a heart full of the good thing._

 _Try to compare what I am presenting._

 _You will meet with much frustration._

 _Try to find ... similar situation._

 _You will always find the same solution._

* * *

LDW 14-1

* * *

Anastasia Demetrios had not seen anything like this before. While she was aware of the nature of the area having intersecting magical ley lines, she was not aware of the actual location in relation to the hall they used for magical practice. And she was not prepared to see a large hole tear through the floor and flood the room with magical energy. Then just as quickly as the explosion of magic ripped into the room, it seems to suddenly vanish. Even more startling, was watching the remaining magical light as it was absorbed into the now motionless body of her trainee, one Harry Potter.

"Holy shit," she said out loud, "if I just killed Britain's famed 'Boy Who Lived' my career is officially over, being here undercover or not." She then ran over to check on her charge, and was instantly relieved to determine that he was still breathing.

His eyes blinked for a moment, then they seemed to focus on the face in front of him. "Did you get the number of that lorry? Or was that just a herd of stampeding unicorns that ran me over?"

Staci slapped him on the arm. "How can you joke after that? Hell, what even happened to you?"

Harry moved to sit up, and felt his head throbbed and decided to lay still for a little longer. "All I know is that something came flashing out of the floor after my apparently overpowered shield tore through everything."

Staci stood up and did a quick magic detection spell, and shook her head as she whistled. "You just opened up a connection to one of the most powerful ley lines in all of North America, let alone New England. And there seems to have been a magical backlash that focused on you."

Harry let out a sigh as he stared up at the ceiling, then dryly added, "Why do these things always seem to happen to me?" He decided to try and sit up and this time he managed to do so without any ill effects.

Staci eyed him carefully, not sure if she should offer to help him, as he slowly stood back on his feet. "So, how do you feel now?"

Harry shook his arms slightly and turned his head from side to side. He let his arms swing around loosely and then he proclaimed, "Actually, I feel better than ever."

Staci just nodded, and then looked back at the hole in the floor. "Well, I will have to get a message to some people so they can get up here and fix this."

"But what about our training?" asked Harry.

Staci smiled at him, "You're now ready for some testing and challenges. We'll be doing that off site from here."

Harry noted the gleam in her eye and decided he did not like that look. Not at all.

* * *

LDW 14-2

* * *

The next morning, Staci had quietly prepared breakfast for them even before Harry had got out of his room within the trunk in the tent.

"You seem awful cheerful this morning," commented Harry, still trying to get his body to wake up.

"Of course I am," replied Staci with a clear level of excitement in her voice, "this should be a fun day."

Harry scowled at her comments, "Fun for who?"

She winked at the wizard across from her, "For me, of course. Today I get to see just how much you have learned so far this summer."

Harry groaned in response to her obvious glee. Then he silently began to eat the eggs and sausage she had already prepared. A short while later they were on their way, driving north from the camp. They came upon a small lake to the side of the road, with a large mountain with a rocky peak rising up behind it. She pulled off the road and parked in a spot near the shore of the lake. As they climbed out of the car, Staci pointed to the peak and then stated, "That is your goal. Make it up to the top of the mountain and then back down here. No apparating to the top or flying on a broom to get there. You can use magic to deal with any potential obstacles in the way. And I expect to see you back before dark."

Harry looked at her with a frown. "Umm, and just how am I supposed to do this? Which way do I go? And what is the real challenge?"

Staci just looked at her watch for a moment before looking back at him, "Time is ticking, you better get started."

Harry stood still for a moment, and then realised the he was not about to get any further instructions. He turned on his heals and started to jog around the lake, keeping his eye on the mountain to his left. He had his wand secured to his wrist on a holster and was running through his mind just what sort of things he might have to encounter on his trek up this mountain. He wondered if there would be non-magicals, meaning that he would not be able to use magic or at least not use his wand. He wondered if he would have to deal with wild life, and he was aware that there may be bears in the area. He had not studied magical creatures in America and he was unsure if that would be a possibility. He continued to make his way past the lake and grit his teeth as he decided to do what he usually does, run in headlong and figure it out as he goes. He had worked for him so far.

He was actually surprised when in a just about half a mile he came upon a trail with a sign indicating that it was leading to the top of Mount Chocorua. "Well, that's a help," he stated to himself, then he began to walk up the trail. He decided a brisk pace would help him reach his goal and still allow him to keep alert for any possible dangers on the way up.

He made it up the trail a mile and had not even seen another hiker. The only sounds that he had heard was that of birds in the trees and the wind blowing lightly through the leaves. After another few hundred yards he noticed a young couple hiking up the trail. He had been gaining on them due to his quick pace. Harry quickly wondered if they were here for his trial, or just having a pleasant hike. Constant vigilance, he told himself, recalling the words of the late Auror Alistor Moody. He figured he would just be prepared in case anything happened, but he would assume that they were just out on a nice hike on a gorgeous late summer day.

As he got a little closer, he overheard a part of their conversation.

"There is just no way he could have done those things," stated the woman.

"But when one is forced into such a situation, one can do amazing things," countered the young man.

"But flying around like that? And the amazing things he was able to do, it was all too fanciful to ever be believed as real," reiterated the young woman.

"But he had the skills to do it, everyone knows it," stated the man. He let out a sigh, and then added, "Would you want to face him in a duel?"

Harry stiffened as he caught part of what they were saying, thinking they were talking about him. He was readying his wand to be released into his hand when the woman added, "Face Zorro in a duel, with a sword? No, but then again it was all just a stupid movie."

The man shook his head as he added, "The Mask of Zorro wasn't just a stupid movie, it was the best movie so far this summer!"

"Well, when you compare it to Godzilla or Armageddon, it isn't hard to be the best movie of the summer," snapped the woman.

Harry breathed a sigh of relief as he suddenly realised he had misinterpreted their conversation. He stepped on a branch that made a loud snap, and the couple turned around to see who was behind them. Harry had briefly looked down at his foot which had cracked the dry old branch, and then looked up to seeing that the man had a stick in his hand and it was pointing it at him.

Harry cursed himself silently as a jet of red light suddenly came shooting from the wand in the man's hand. Harry dove to his side and cast an overpowered shield towards the couple. He registered the startled look on the faces of the couple right before they collapsed from the bludgeoning affect of the shield, having registered too late that Harry could indeed cast wandlessly and silently. Harry stood up and spun around to survey the surroundings, and quickly ascertained that he was now alone. He then summoned the wands of the two and then positioned their bodies to be sitting up against a large nearby rock. Harry pocketed their wands and then left to make his way up the trail. After about another mile of an uneventful journey he started to slow down his pace so as to preserve his stamina.

He had noted a sign near the start of the hike indicating that it would be about 3.5 miles to the summit. He made his way up the trail and he was surprised that he did not encounter any other hikers on this trail. He did note that there was a trail that branched off, but it had a longer distance to the summit. As he had been working out all summer, he figured that the shorter, albeit most likely steeper route should be fine. As he neared the tree line the trail became steeper still and he needed to scale some ledges, aided with some metal rungs that were attached to the rocks. In less than 3 hours from when he had left Staci, he had reached the summit. There were clear views all around, and he could see various lakes to the south and to the west, and then he looked north at the range of larger mountains. He briefly wondered if he needed to do anything to prove he had reached the summit, but he decided that simply sharing his memory of the magnificent views should be adequate proof. Taking a deep breath and one final look around, he began his slow descent down the steep rocky face.

Harry was making decent time back down the trail, but he was trying to remain alert, as he assumed that he would encounter further obstacles. He stopped when he became acutely aware of the silence in the woods. He was not hearing even the sounds of birds or the wind blowing through the trees. "Now that is a little unnatural," he thought to himself. "Constant vigilance," he repeated to himself again and again. His wand was now in his hand as he slowly walked down the trail. He noticed a slight motion to his right, and he immediately ducked and rolled while putting up a shield spell. The motion was someone raising a gun to their shoulder and Harry heard the bang of the gin being fired as his shield was going up. He was surprised when his shield shimmered for a moment as the bullet bounced off and to the ground. His concentration was momentarily lost, and his shield dropped. Another bang echoed through the woods and Harry's left arm was bruised by the impact of a rubberised bullet. He silently cursed as he sent an stunner spell at the individual and the man with the gun was soon out cold and on the forest floor. Harry did a quick scanning spell and did not detect anyone else. He decided he definitely needed to remain attentive to his surroundings for the rest of this journey down the mountain.

He was about three quarters of the way down the mountain when he came upon a wide and rocky stream bed that the trail was leading over. He made it about halfway across the stream when he felt a sudden sharp pinch on the back of his shoulder. He had not heard any sounds of any attackers so he was worried about what could have happened. He reached back with his right hand to feel the area on his left shoulder, and his hand came down upon a small buzzing object. Then he felt a sharp sting on the palm of his hand. He initially reacted by squeezing his hand and pulling it forward, only to find a hornet in the palm of his hand. As he tossed the offending insect to the ground, he felt another sting on his neck and then one on the back of his leg. He doubled over to brush off the attacking insects and started to run across the rocks. He slipped on one of the slick moss covered rock as he was stung again, and just happened to fall down as a red beam of light passed over his head. Harry rolled off of the rock he had landed upon and into the stream while snapping his wand into his hand. He cast a large shield spell which was quickly bombarded by several different coloured spells coming from various directions. Harry jumped up from where he was laying in the stream and quickly cast off a series of overpowered stunners as he spun around in the air. He noticed several wizards drop in the woods upon the impact from his spells. He landed awkwardly on a loose and wet rock and twisted his ankle. He grunted in pain, but knew that he had to keep fighting. He managed to put up another shield before another round of spells came flying out of the woods from different locations.

Harry wondered how many there could be and briefly considered sending out a very destructive spell to take out the nearby forest, but decided just as quickly that he really should avoid leaving any lasting damage on the surrounding area. Harry then used a series of body bind hexes and other spells to incapacitate the new assailants and started to make his way down the trail, this time more slowly as his ankle was already swelling up and he had burning pains from the various hornet stings he had sustained.

The trail levelled out as he was nearing the bottom of the mountain. He could see a clearing up ahead, then paused to caste a homenum revelio spell. He paused as he detected several individuals at the side of the clearing. Harry limped towards the clearing, and once again prepared himself for the next attack. He noted that the three were slowly raising rifles and were about to take aim. Harry muttered under his breath and then quickly cast the shielding spell he had been taught that was purported to be strong enough to block bullets. His shield, however, was raised too slowly to stop the first round fired at him. A rubber bullet slammed into his left arm again, which caused him to falter, but he grasped his wand more tightly so as to continue the spell. The shield flashed white and blue as the remaining bullets bounced off. Using his injured left arm while ignoring the pain, he summoned a second wand from a wand holster on that wrist and started casting stunning spells as soon as there was a break in the gunfire. Harry had to concentrate to be able to drop his shield for the instance that his spells were sent out from his left hand and then raised his shield once again. To his surprise he did not need to raise the shield as his use of the left handed wand had caught his assailants off guard and he had quickly subdued them. Harry then quickly summoned their weapons to him and tossed them into the woods. He once again proceeded to limp down the trail, rubbing the sore area on his left arm with his right hand.

As he approached the far side of the clearing he could make out the presence of another person approaching him up the trail. He quickly raised his wand with his right hand, and then noticed the individual raising both of their hands.

"That was both amazingly quick and efficient," called out Staci.

Harry grunted, then replied, "Not efficient enough. I have too many injuries, and I bloody well didn't need to deal with a swarm of angry wasps."

Staci raised an eyebrow, then used her wand to cast a quick charm to assess his injuries. "Well there is nothing a few spells and potions can't mend quickly," she stated with a smile. Having detected the large bruise on his left arm from the rubber bullet she frowned slightly. A real bullet might have done quite a bit of damage" she observed. "At least these rubber bullets were also magical treated to not cause any serious injuries."

Staci then conjured a crutch and tossed it to the young wizard. "This ought to help you get back to the car, then we can work on healing you properly."

A short while later they had arrived at her vehicle and she then brought out several potions. She instructed him to drink the first two, then she cast a few specific healing spells to deal with some of his injuries. She then handed him two more potions. "You'll probably want to lie down in the car," she commented, "as these will probably make you more than a little drowsy."

Harry sighed, then drank the potions and laid down in the passenger seat of her car - and soon was sleeping soundly as his body began to heal from its many injuries. It was evening by the time he started to stir. He sat up and found Staci seated at a nearby picnic table. The sun was setting and dark shadows covered the lake as the mountain he had climbed blocked the fading rays of sunlight.

"Here, let me help you," she said as she got up and offered him a hand. "You had quite a fall there on your trip down the mountain. I must say, you accomplished it all much more quickly and more easily than even I had anticipated you would."

Harry noticed that her smile was almost predatory. She took his hand and instead of leading him to the table she led him to the shore of the lake. "Why don't we celebrate with a little relaxing swim?"

Harry was puzzled by her words, and was about to comment about not having any swim trunks, when he noticed that she was slipping off her clothes. Slowly she walked away from him and into the cool water.

Harry stared after the now naked woman who was slowly descending into the clear water, and he tried to decide what to do.

"Aren't you going to join me?" called back Staci. "The water is quite nice."

Harry needed no more motivation and quickly discarded his clothes and then made his way out into the water to join her. As he approached her, he could see her smile and and lick her lips. He reached out towards her to take a hold of her hands, anticipating what would come next.

As he was about to embrace the woman in front of him, a bright light was suddenly shining on the two.

Harry held up his hand to block the light, but he still couldn't see anything from the shoreline which he had just departed. Then the light seemed to move back and forth from one of his eyes to the next, which Harry thought was quite odd. Then he felt a hand on his forehead, which was soon followed by his hearing voices.

"Don't worry, he is coming around now," said the first.

"That was quite a fall you took there, young man," came a voice he clearly did not recognise.

Harry realised that his head was throbbing. The room was suddenly very bright and he then had the sensation that he was lying down on some sort of bed. He moved to sit up and suddenly felt the room spin around him. He went to shake his head, which only made the headache throb even more.

"Here, drink this," came a soft female voice.

Harry reached out and took the offered drink, and did just that, starting with a tentative sip. Next, he felt a cool cloth wiping his forehead and then he heard the familiar sounds of Staci's voice.

"So, young man, you're finally back with us," she said gently.

"What do you mean?" Harry wondered aloud.

Staci frowned slightly at him, "You were running down the mountain, apparently after dealing with the various ambushes w had set up along the way, and then you were attacked by a swarm of angry hornets, and then you tried to out run them and you apparently slipped on some wet rocks as you ran across the stream bed. You were found unconscious in the middle of the stream. However, the teams indicated that your shield spell, which you used as you were falling, stopped all of the curses and spells which were fired at you, and even the magically protected rubber bullets that were shot at you. You put on quite the show, only to be outdone by a few nasty insects. Even the first shooter who managed to get you in your left arm was surprised by how quick your response time was. And the couple that you left unconscious on your way up the mountain were happy to get their wands back, which were found on your person when we brought you here."

Harry avoided looking at this trainer, and looked up at the ceiling tiles, which were suddenly quite fascinating. The light in the room started t make his headache worse. After a minute of lying still with his eyes closed, he then asked a question. "So, my memories of fighting off countless wizards the rest of the way down the mountain from that stream bed, they're all just dreams or something?"

One of the voices from earlier spoke up. "You, young man, had quite the fall and suffered a concussion. The potion you just drank should help with the symptoms. However, you should take it easy for a couple of days."

Harry let out a long sigh realising the memories of going swimming with her were merely dreams in his delirious state after losing consciousness. He stated simply, "So, that was unexpected."

Staci stepped into view and gave a slight smile. "What was unexpected? That you didn't quite make it down in one piece? The wizards and witches that you did manage to take out on your trip all thought that it was unexpected that you made it as far as you did, and that what finally stopped you had nothing to do with any of their attacks."

Harry couldn't stop a slight blush form rising to his face, "No, not that, although I thought I did make it down. I guess my memories were a little jarred when I fell and hit my head."

Staci frowned slightly at his comment, but let I go. Then she turned to the medical-wizard. "So, when can this young man leave?"

"Any time, but he should wait, oh, an hour or so before any strenuous activity," commented the man, "and he shouldn't try to tax his magical reserves." Then he turned and looked at Harry with a slight shake of his head, "but then again, with our recent analysis, that would probably be a pretty difficult thing to do for this young man."

Later that afternoon they had arrived back at the camp via port key. Harry and Staci were sitting inside their magically expanded tent and she was explaining what was to happen next. "We're almost done here," she stated. "I have a few friends who will be coming up to review a few things with us."

Harry gave her a puzzled look, which she noted and then went on to explain further. "It's just a few young wizards who want to review some of the technical aspects of the shields and other new spells and how your recent surge in magic may be affected by them. Once they're done, we'll be ready to send you back."

Harry took a deep breath and let out a loud sigh. "It always seems like its time to move on to the next big thing. So, if I'm heading back to Britain, then what are you going to be doing?"

"Officially? I'll be returning from my leave of absence. And I am quite sure that my next assignment will not be anywhere near England or Scotland," she said with a sense of frustration, or was it sadness, Harry wasn't sure.

After a few moments of silence, there was the sound of a car pulling up in front of their camp site.

"That is probably the young men from Boston," stated Staci as she stood up and made her way to the tent door.

Harry stepped out after his mentor and saw three wizards who appeared to be in their twenties getting out of what appeared to be an older car. Harry wasn't sure what to make of the vehicle, but decided he would wait before he asked anything more.

Staci called out to the young men, "So, you lot made here safely after all."

"Hey there, gorgeous," called out the one who had stepped out of the passenger side of the car."You know us, just the pros from Dover making our appearance."

Harry was puzzled about this comment, "I thought you said that they were from Boston."

Staci laughed at Harry's comment, "He's quoting a movie and yes, they are from Boston, or thereabouts anyway." Then she turned back to the men, "Hi, Tom, and no, you are not the pros from Dover. Those two had skills and charm."

"I've got skills and charm," protested the one now identified as Tom.

"Hey, we're starved, we've been on the road all afternoon," said the man who had been in the back seat. "Any place we can go get something to eat?"

"Always thinking with your stomach, aren't you Jim?" replied Staci. Then she turned to the man who was getting out of the driver's seat. "Hey there Bill, I see you got your classic Skylark back on the road."

Bill, who was a little stockier than the other two and had a small beard patch on his chin gave a big smile. "Finally got the body patched up and the big tires replaced," he said as he placed his hand on the black roof which was in contrast to the emerald green colour. "The engine is running great, now that this V8 has all of those added fancy stuff removed."

"Food? I thought we were talking about food not cars," asked Jim again, who was the thinnest of the three, with the look of a long distance runner.

"But you're wizards," commented Harry as he looked at the car and then at the three men, "why travel here from Boston by car?"

Bill just grinned even bigger. "Obviously you haven't ever driven a muscle car."

Jim scoffed at the comment. "You call this a muscle car?"

Bill almost glared at his friend, "Hey, what do you have, an old GMC Pacer?"

"Oh, burn," added Tom. The two turned and looked at him, and he raised his hands, "Hey, I'm just saying. I don't even have a car. Apparating works fine for me."

Then Bill turned back to Staci. "So, food?"

"Well there is a pizza place not too far from here," she stated.

"Pizza sounds great!" exclaimed Jim.

Harry rode with Staci in her car and the group made there way to the Pizza Barn, where Harry and Staci had an encounter with some of the staff from the camp. As they were enjoying their pizza, Staci indicated that she needed to get back to work on some reports. The others were still enjoying the pizza and the beer and said that they would catch up. When they were ready to leave they headed out to the parking lot. As they were making their way to the car, Harry commented that he had heard a rumour that the local sheriff owned the Pizza Barn.

As Bill was about to pull out of the dirt parking lot he stated, "I guess I shouldn't do a burn out and kick a lot of dust and rocks in the air."

The others laughed at his comments and then Bill pulled out slowly onto the local highway. They hadn't driven more than 20 yards when suddenly flashing blue lights came on behind them.

Tom commented, "What the hell is up with this?"

Bill stopped the car on the side of the road and rolled down his window. The deputy slowly walked up to the car and shined his flash light inside and into everyone's faces. "So, there was a report that someone was doing donuts in the parking lot, was that you guys?"

The group all wondered what the officer was up to as he must have been close enough to the parking lot to have seen them walk out of the Pizza Barn and into the car.

"No, sir, we haven't," replied Bill simply.

"You're not from around here," commented the officer, referencing the plates from Massachusetts. "Do you even have a place to stay?"

"We're all staying up at a campground in Freedom, on the lake," Bill explained.

"Is that so?" commented the officer, clearly not impressed with the group of young men in front of him. "What do you have in the back here?" he asked as he now was shining the flashlight into the back. "What's in those bags?"

Harry, who was in the front passenger seat, was confused as to what the officer was questioning about and why, but he just kept his mouth shut so as not to get himself in trouble with the officer who seemed to be on some sort of crusade. He also was worried what these guys may have had in the bags in their car.

Tom, who was seated behind Harry, picked up the bag in front of him and pulled out a thin wafer like item, bit into it, as he proclaimed, "Potato chips!"

The deputy was not at all pleased with the response, but there was nothing he could do as his question was answered and potato chips were not illegal.

Then he turned to Jim who was sitting behind the drivers seat. "And what about that bag?"

Slowly Jim picked up a brown paper bag, and Harry worried if there was something illegal in the bag as he was moving so deliberately.

"Well?" asked the officer again.

Jim moved his hand quickly and the bag popped with a loud bang right in front of the deputy as Jim proclaimed, "Nothing!"

The deputy was now more than a little angry however there was nothing he found that the group had done to cause any trouble. He then sneered as he stated, "Well, you better be on your way, and don't cause any more trouble. And be sure to return to where ever it is that you're from as soon as possible."

The four wizards sitting in the car waited quietly for the officer to return to his patrol car. Then Bill slowly pulled out and stayed about 5 miles per hour under the speed limit for at least two miles and he was sure that the deputy was not following them.

Once they were closer back to the camp, Harry finally voiced his concerns. "What the bloody hell was that all about?"

Tom spoke up first, "He was either looking for underage guys with alcohol or some other illegal substances with them. Figured he could hassle some flatlanders just because they are not from here."

"Probably right," agreed Jim.

Then Bill commented, "I thought I was going to die when you popped that bag in his face."

Harry then added, "I was worried there was something in there with how serious you were when you slowly picked it up, and I had no idea what we would be getting in trouble for with that."

Tom laughed, "Probably won't ever have an experience like that again."

"We better not," added Bill.

The rest of the trip back to the camp was, thankfully, quite uneventful. The next morning the group of three men met with Harry and Staci in the training room under the summer camp meeting hall. Bill was analysing the ley line that was discovered when it sent out a magical shock wave into Harry. Tom and Jim were reviewing Harry's memories of the mountain climb and how he used his magic to deal with both magical and muggle weapon attacks, however, it was admittedly less than they had hoped for due to the unfortunate accident with slipping on the rocks.

They then spent an hour reviewing the theory behind how he could use older spells he had learned in school and incorporate a slight change so as his shields would protect not just from magical attacks but from physical ones as well.

Jim offered a little caution at the end of their training session. "Depending on how much magical power is put into the spells, the shields may only slow down or slightly deflect the trajectory of a bullet, but it is possible the shield may actually stop it completely."

Bill had just come back from reviewing his analysis of the ley line. "Based on my calculations on the amount of magic that was infused into Harry's core, it is most likely his shields will simply stop most any projectile fired at him."

The others looked at him with wide eyes and then Staci spoke up, "What do you mean that magic was infused into Harry's core?"

"Young Mister Potter here had a larger than average magical core to begin with," commented Bill as though that information was common knowledge, but when he noticed the surprised reactions on the others' faces, he then went on to explain further. "Harry Potter, from what we know of magical Britain's history survived the killing curse as a toddler, how and why is not clear. He managed to defeat a wizard who had used countless spells and enchantments and rituals to enhance his magic. That feat in and of itself tells me, should tell anyone really, that he is not a wizard to be trifled with."

"Most of it was dumb luck and a stupid prophecy," interjected Harry.

Bill scoffed at Harry's comment. "Don't sell yourself short. The prophecy may have merely caused Riddle to target you, and perhaps that very act led to your surviving the curse he hit you with, and the resulting effect was a change in your core. Which is quite fortuitous for you, as if that had not happened when you were so young, then your core would probably have not been able to absorb the excess magical energy from the shock wave from the ley line. Most magical cores would have simply overloaded from such a transfer, and let me tell you, the results would have been most unpleasant for Staci here to have witnessed. You, sir, have a very unusual magical core, one that is fluid, not static."

"So what the hell does this all mean?" asked Staci with more than a little hint of demanding an answer as she asked her question.

"Yeah, what does this mean, for me?" added Harry.

Bill shrugged his shoulders, then he simply stated, "It means that you probably won't tire magically in almost any battle, but beyond that, I have not idea, really."

Staci raised an eyebrow at that comment.

Harry frowned, "I suppose that means any sparring sessions just got exponentially harder."

Staci smiled at his comment, "You would have been right, if you weren't returning to England tomorrow."

* * *

LDW 14-3

* * *

In what appeared to the average person as an old abandoned warehouse in Liverpool, Middleton knocked on the door to what had become Barnes' office. "Any word yet? It's been awfully quiet for us, too quiet. The men are getting antsy."

Barnes rubbed his chin before responding. "There are some mysterious goings on in the Northern Eastern part of the United States. But as there is no one talking about what is happening there, my theory is that Potter must be there, training."

"That sounds like a bit of a stretch," replied Middleton.

"Not necessarily, considering the young man went dark as far as magical Britain is concerned," observed Barnes.

"What kind of specialised training would he be receiving? Do we need to worry about it?" asked Middleton, understanding the seriousness of what his partner had revealed.

"He didn't even graduate from Hogwarts, he spent the last year on the run," stated Barnes as he began his explanation. "His only real experience was that he somehow managed to take out Voldemort. He has survived everything that has come his way so far. So we are best not to underestimate his resourcefulness, but he is still limited in what he has learned. He simply has outstanding practical experience. Which is why we have been planning, and why we will be controlling the events by staging our attacks when and where and how we want to."

Middleton nodded quietly.

"So, are things ready for the assault on the next target later this week?" Barnes asked his second in command.

"The port keys will all be ready by tomorrow afternoon. And everyone on the assault team will have their own series of escape locations before they eventually meet up at the rendezvous site, before finally making our way back here," affirmed Middleton. "Everyone will be going their own way, even if Aurors do show up, they can't track us all at the same time."

Barnes nodded silently in response.

* * *

 **AN:**

 **Yes I am back with another chapter. Sorry it took so long, but real life has it's way of interfering.**

 **So, to get to some questions that may arise:**

 **1\. Yes, Harry will be back in England in the next chapter.**

 **2\. Some of the events that occur in this chapter are based on personal experience. Specifically, the incident with the sheriff's deputy - yes that did happen to me back in the early 80's - so while it has little to do with the actual story it was fun to write and reminisce about the absurdity of that event.**

 **3\. Hopefully the long time in between chapters will not lead to too many plot holes or inconsistencies, several of which were discovered within this chapter as I was editing it - again, the problem of taking too long to finish this story/chapter.**

 **(Also, I am going back and doing some minor editing to older chapters...fixing spelling and grammar where I can find issues)**

* * *

Lyrics: © 1978, "The Good Thing", Talking Heads, More Songs About Buildings And Food, written by: David Byrne


	15. Chapter 15 - Memories Can't Wait

LDW 15

 **Memories Can't Wait**

" _Do you remember anyone here?_

 _No you don't remember anything at all_

 _I'm sleeping, I'm flat on my back_

 _Never woke up, had no regrets_

 _There's a party in my mind...And it never stops_

 _There's a party up there all the time...They'll_

 _party till they drop_

 _Other people can go home...Other people they can split_

 _I'll be here all the time...I can never quit_

 _Take a walk through the land of shadows_

 _Take a walk through the peaceful meadows_

 _Try not to look so disappointed_

 _It isn't what you hoped for, is it?_

 _There's a party in my mind...And I hope it never stops_

 _I'm stuck here in this seat...I might not stand up_

 _Other people can go home...Everyone else will split_

 _I'll be here all the time...I can never quit_

 _Everything is very quiet_

 _Everyone has gone to sleep_

 _I'm wide awake on memories_

 _These memories can't wait."_

* * *

LDW 15.1

* * *

 **Australia, August 10, 1998**

Hermione was still searching in Perth for her parents; she had found no signs of them in Sydney where she had arranged for them to travel. She had been trying to find information on what might have become of Wendell and Monica Wilkins and so far she was having no success. She was waiting, and impatiently at that, for the clerk at the Perth City Hall to retrieve some information for her, which she hoped might help her find her parents.

Hermione was startled by a tap on her shoulder, and spun around to end up staring into the chest of a large man. She looked up from his chest into his well tanned features, and noted his handsome sparkling blue eyes. His lack of shaving for several days gave him a rugged appearance.

"Can I help you" she managed to state in her surprise as she tried to hide any school girl like reaction of swooning at the sight of the handsome young man.

"Miss Hermione Granger, I presume," stated the man simply.

This caused an eyebrow to raise on the young witch. "Erm, yes, but how? But who?" she stuttered out half posed questions to the man in front of her as she wondered how he knew who she was and just who he was to begin with.

"Ah, please allow me to introduce myself," he said with a deep resonating voice. "I am Scott Hubbard, with the Australian DMLE." He casually pulled a wallet out of a pocket of his jacket, flashed a badge ever so briefly and just as quickly slid the wallet away. "I, or should I say we, that is the Australian DMLE, has become aware of your presence and your quest to find certain individuals here in our beautiful country."

Hermione bit her lip, "Well, yes, I am trying to find some people and I didn't mean to disturb anyone. Honestly, I was trying to do this all on my own and hoped I didn't or wouldn't need to involve any of the local authorities."

Scott smiled at her, "Oh, relax, Miss Granger, I am only here to offer any assistance that you may need. After all, the news of the exploits of you and your famous friend did not stay simply put in your homeland or even in Europe for that matter."

Hermione started to blush slightly but then calmed her nerves before she turned too red. "Oh, well, I guess I shouldn't be surprised by that, the war did affect more than just Britain, even if only indirectly."

Scott gave her nod of understanding, "So, Miss Granger, what assistance may I offer you? Who exactly are you looking for?"

She bit her lip once more, before stating, "This might be a little complicated to explain."

Just then the clerk returned. "No records of a Monica or Wendell Wilkins anywhere near Perth on any sort of registry." She frowned slightly, "I am sorry I don't have anything more helpful for you."

"Thank you for your help," offered Hubbard who then gently took Hermione by the elbow. "Why don't we get something to eat for lunch, my treat, and we can talk more about this Monica and Wendy Wilkins."

Hermione frowned at his mispronouncing the name of her father. "I guess that would be fine," she stated as she followed along where she was gently led by the dashing young DMLE agent.

After a short walk, Hermione found herself seated in a muggle pub, but with privacy wards having already been erected around them by the Australian Auror. The waitress dropped off a couple of menus, and then Hubbard spoke up.

Giving Hermione a very serious look, he spoke very pointedly. "Now, before we do anything else, before you even order your lunch, I have a very important message to impart to you."

Hermione was now worried about what he was going to say. Once again she bit her lip waiting for him to explain.

"Now, don't take this the wrong way, but you need to remember, the various pies they serve here are absolutely fantastic," he added with a slight smile, "so you must save room for some dessert."

Hermione stared at him for a minute, then her jaw opened, and then she laughed. The first real laugh she had in weeks.

Scott smiled at her response, then he commented, "We should order something to eat, and be sure we have room for some pie."

Hermione put a hand up to her eyes and then composed herself. "Thank you, I think I needed that."

The two then had a light lunch followed by pie. As Hermione was finishing her dessert, Scott spoke up again. "So, about Monica and Wendell."

Hermione took one last bite of pie followed by a deep breath. She looked Scott in the eye and shook her head slightly before she began to explain. "Things were bad, back in England, with the war. And especially for people like me."

"And what does that mean, people like you?" asked Scott.

Hermione tilted her head slightly, raising her chin. "Muggle born, that is what I mean by people like me."

Scott scoffed at her comment. Hermione glared at him for scoffing. Then he he shook his head back and explained wile holding up his hands in order to calm her reaction. "Around here, we use the term no-mag for what you call muggles, and you would then be a first born magic user. This isn't Britain, we don't treat those without a long history of magic as being lesser wizards or witches."

Hermione relaxed back into her chair and sighed. "Well, thank you then. But as I was saying, things were getting very dangerous, and with my being close friends with Harry Potter, who was the prime target of Voldemort, the Dark Lord, and his Death Eaters, I was worried about my parents' safety."

"Well that makes sense," stated Scott, nodding his head, "it's only right that you would be worried."

"Yes, well," continued Hermione, "I did something a little drastic. I sent my parents away. But to protect them, in case anyone from the Death Eaters came looking for them, or if something happened to me, I didn't want them to be easily found and I didn't want them worrying about me."

She paused and took a deep breath and looked away. After an awkward time of silence, Scott spoke up again. "What did you do?"

Hermione bit her lip then she spoke quickly and softly, "I may-have-oblivated-them-so-they-lost-their-memories, and then-I-gave-them-new-identities-and-told-them-they-wanted-to-live-in-Australia."

She took a deep breath.

"Slow down, slow down," admonished Scott. "Did I understand you that you used a memory charm on your parents?"

"Um, yeah, well, I did it to protect them," Hermione said defensively, as she was starting to panic that she was going to be in trouble.

Scott shook his head at her, then gave her a smile. "First of all, you did not cast that spell here in Australia, obliviating your parents that is. So, that is not the issue. We do, however, need to help you find them. What more can you tell me about them?"

"They're dentists," proclaimed Hermione, then she added, "well, at least they _were_ dentists, oral surgeons, back in England. I thought that they were maybe going to set up a dental practice under their new names when they got here."

Scott nodded slowly, "And when you gave them these knew identities, they had the documentation to prove they were dentists, under their new names, and you made sure that you did not change their memories of how to do their jobs?"

Hermione gasped and put a hand to her mouth again. "Oh, Merlin, no, I didn't think this through." She looked down at the plate in front of her and was trying to hold back tears.

"It's okay, it's okay," said Scott trying to comfort her once again. "We'll get you through this and we will find them. So, you've been going about this by looking for dentists?"

"Well, yes, that I have," she stated as she looked up at the ceiling. "I can't believe I have been so stupid about this whole mess."

"No worries, we can start fresh," added Scott, trying to sound encouraging. "We can use our resources through the DMLE here and track down Wendell and Monica. You said you sent them to Australia, but where? Here in Perth?"

Hermione smiled slightly at Scott. "I sent them to Australia, and I assumed that they would have gone to Sydney, but there was no sign of them there. Then I was trying to do research and I learned that Perth was hiring new dentists so I came here hoping that I might find them. But as you witnessed earlier, I have not been able to find them." She sunk into her seat a little more. Then she added, "And it didn't help that I got a little distracted with trying to do some research for a friend of mine while I was here."

Scott reached out across the table and took one of her hands in his, "Relax, Hermione Jean Granger, we will help you. I will help you. We'll get to the bottom of this, and we'll do it soon."

Hermione silently nodded in appreciation of the offered help. Then she looked down at her hand that was being held gently and tenderly by the wizards sitting across from her. Scott noticed where her eyes were staring and then he immediately withdrew his hands as if they had been burned. "Sorry about that, I didn't mean to be forward, I was just trying…"

Hermione cut him off, "You were simply trying to be a helpful friend, I know." She smiled at him.

Scott smiled back and suggested that he take her back to wherever she was staying. "Why don't you go back to your room, get some rest. Tomorrow morning I will pick you up and we'll head back to Sydney and we'll start using my resources to help you find your parents."

Hermione agreed that his plan sounded like a good one and she was relieved to have found someone who seemed that they would actually be helpful to her in finding her parents. She had wanted to avoid contacting the DMLE in Australia so as not to get in trouble with the authorities over what she had done. And here she had finally run into someone from the Australian DMLE and he was both understanding and helpful. After being dropped off at her hotel she took his advice and decided to relax. There was a hot tub by the hotel pool where she went to unwind then she went back to her room and read a book, one of her childhood favourites, Pride and Prejudice, until she fell asleep in her comfortable bed.

* * *

LDW 15.2

* * *

There was a gathering at the largest open area in the middle of Diagon Alley, not far from the steps to Gringotts Bank. People were gathered around to see a wizard who had grabbed an old crate from one of the abandoned store fronts and was standing upon it as he was giving an apparent impromptu speech.

Gawain Robards was on his way back to the ministry after dealing with some legal business at the bank when he paused at the edge of the crowd. He began to listen in on what the man was saying, wanting to be sure he wouldn't need to involve himself. He moved between several of the witches who were standing in the back of the gathering crowd and moved up to where he could see the person making the speech. Blonde hair, slicked back, and a slight drawl to the voice. He shook his head to make sure that it wasn't Lucius Malfoy standing there as he was supposed to be in his holding cell at the ministry. No, the voice was similar, but a little different, and the hair was not nearly as long.

"As I was saying, the ministry must be held accountable," continued Draco, as the crowd around him was slowly growing. "Someone needs to protect the members of the Sacred 28, and anyone else who is being attacked and targeted. Did we not all just learn through the recent war that killing magicals, ANY magicals, is not the answer to our problems as a society? Did not the Battle of Hogwarts teach us all something? I was there," he yelled as he held up his left arm for everyone to see the fading Dark Mark on his wrist. "And yes, I fought for the wrong side! But I learned many things that night. And perhaps the most important thing I learned was after the fighting was over and the dead were removed from the grounds, but before the clean up and repairs began to happen. There was blood everywhere. There was blood from Death Eaters. There was blood from pure bloods. There was blood from the so called blood-traitors. There was blood from half-bloods and muggle born. There was blood from students and from teachers. There was blood from people from Britain and from the continent. Yes, I know, this is horrific, and it was horrific. But what did I learn? No one bled out mud. Everyone had the same red blood. It left the same stains on the ground and the stones, no matter who spilt it. We are one people. We need to stay one people. But we need to heal as one people and we need to be protected as one people. Whoever is attacking any of our people is attacking _all_ of our people. And it needs to stop!"

There were cheers, there was applause, and a bewildered head of the DMLE walked away from the crowd in shock and surprise. Shocked that he heard the son of a Death Eater, a marked Death Eater himself, calling for unity of the magical world. Surprised that the reaction was so supportive. And he knew he needed to tell the Minister for Magic of this development as he shouldn't find out about this little rally by reading about it in the Daily Prophet, and Robards was sure that this little rally would be mentioned in the next edition.

* * *

LDW 15.3

* * *

 **August 11, 1998**

 **Australia**

Hermione had slept the best she had in weeks. She was finishing a large breakfast, as she had not taken the time to eat well at all during the time she was in Australia searching for her parents. This Tuesday morning she was feeling hopeful that she would finally make some real progress on her search for her parents.

As she was finishing her morning tea, the tall and handsome young Australian auror arrived and took a seat across from her.

"Up and ready to go already," he stated smoothly. "I gather you're eager to begin the quest for your parents again."

Hermione smiled and nodded. Mentally she cursed herself for acting like a little school girl in front of him. She closed her eyes tightly for a moment and then looked him in the eye as she replied, "I guess I'm just feeling like I finally might make some headway in the search and that I actually might find them again."

"Once you're all packed, we can use a port-key I have arranged to bring us to the DMLE headquarters in Sydney," he explained casually. "Once there we can see what we can do to track down what the non-mag government would have on your parents, they should have been and probably still are tracking any recent immigrants, even if they did come from England."

Hermione paled at the thought of the government tracking her parents.

Scott could see the concern cross her face. "It's not like they came over as convicts to settle Botany Bay," he said reassuringly, "but they, the government, does like to keep tabs on all those who come over, particularly if it wasn't just for a short holiday."

Hermione closed her eyes, then she almost whined as she shook her head once more, "How could I have been so stupid as not to realise all of the possible problems with sending my parents all the way over here." She took a deep cleansing breath, "Oh, well, I suppose I can blame my lack of thinking things through on the circumstances of the war. And hopefully we can find them, and find them soon."

Scott gave her a smile that helped calm her nerves. "Then, once you are packed, come down to the lobby. We can use a private room near the entrance to activate the port-key. It wouldn't look good if we were to just suddenly disappear from the middle of the lobby."

Hermione was about to suggest that he just come up to her room, but then she thought better of it. He was being quite helpful and he was treating her with respect and giving her some privacy. She smiled at Scott again and then excused herself from the table. Ten minutes later she walked into he hotel lobby and saw Scott was finishing a conversation with one of the desk clerks for the hotel. The clerk smiled at Scott who then seemed to sign a paper and turned around to face Hermione.

"I just need to check out and settle my bill," she told him.

"No need, no need at all," replied the auror. "Consider this a thank you from the magical government of Australia for what you and your friends did for the magical community at large. If you hadn't stopped that madman, we all would have eventually suffered from it."

Hermione actually blushed. "I'm not sure what to say."

Scott shrugged his shoulders and simply said "You could start with thank you."

Hermione dropped her bags with a big sigh, then she stepped forward and gave Scott a slight hug. "Thank you," she said softly, "you really didn't need to do that."

Scott deflected her comment with a wave of his hand, "We can argue about this all day, so lets just leave it. And now we can head over to the small conference room down this hall and take the port-key to Sydney."

Hermione did not like the feeling of being squeezed through a tube when the port-key transported them to the Central Auror Office in the Australian Ministry of Magic. She looked around and realised that they were in a simple holding room. Scott quickly explained that this was one of the special receiving rooms for official port-key travel and that they should exit quickly in case someone else was about to make use of the space. They stepped out into the hall and he led her down a short corridor to the main offices of the DMLE. He called over a junior Auror named Beasley, and asked him to take care of Miss Granger's luggage and things, so that they could have it sent to whatever hotel room she arranged to stay at, be it here in Sydney or elsewhere.

Hermione was not used to so much positive attention being paid to her. Scott had her follow him down to another office on a lower floor in the building they were in. A sign on the door to the office they entered indicated that it was the magical-non-mag liaison office. Scott walked up to the main desk and smiled broadly at the woman seated there.

"Hey there, Sheila," he began, "could you do us a favour. This young lady is the famous Hermione Granger, from Great Britain. She and her mates, particularly one Harry Potter, were the ones who defeated that dark wanker that was beginning to worry the entire ICW."

Hermione looked at the name plate on the desk, which read Maryanne Blakeney, and she wondered who Sheila was.

"Nice to meet you, Miss Granger," stated Miss Blakeney. Then she turned back to Scott, "So, Auror Hubbard, what exactly can the mag-non-mag liaison office do for you, or for that matter, for Miss Granger here?"

"Right to the point," he noted. "We are needing to track down a certain couple, a non-mag couple, who may have moved here from England about a year ago. A Wendell and Monica Wilkins, I believe."

Maryanne simply nodded and stepped away from her desk. She then cast a charm and a glowing messenger that looked to Hermione like a jackrabbit patronus took off and went down the hall. Hermione looked at Maryanne with a confused look as the woman sat down back at her desk.

"It'll be just a minute, miss," stated Maryanne politely.

About two minutes later a small stack of papers appeared on her desk. She picked them up and began to skim through them, "Just what we needed from the non-mag immigration department. So, let's see, you said they came over last year? During the summer? Oh, here they are. Stayed briefly in Sydney, traveled around for a month or so, stopped in Perth for a little while…"

Hermione turned to Scott, "See, I knew they must have been there at one point."

Maryanne raised an eyebrow and began going through the papers again. "Oh, here it is. It seems they settled in Brisbane. They opened up some sort of shop."

"Probably their dental practice," Hermione commented excitedly.

Scott tilted his head in a slight bow to Maryanne, "Thank you, ma'am, for your kind and quick help."

"Anytime, Hubbard," said the clerk, giving him a slight smirk as he turned to leave with Hermione.

As they made their way down the hall to the room where they had originally arrived, Scott explained that they could apparate directly to the DMLE branch in Brisbane. He also advised that it would be best for her to be side-along apparated, as he knew where they were going and he could get them through the wards at the DMLE office. A couple of moments later they had appeared in a very similar room to the one that they had just left. Hermione felt a little queasy and stumbled as they landed in the room. Scott caught her around the waste and pulled her up to his side.

"Sometimes the wards we travel through can be a little offsetting to those who have not experienced them before," he explained as he let the now steady Hermione stand on her own.

She straightened her clothes as she smiled back, "Well, thank you then." As they stepped out into a similar hallway she asked him what they would do now.

"We just need an address for the shop and we'll be on our way," he stated. He stopped by a desk which appeared to be at the main entrance for the building and spoke to another clerk, this one was of a much darker complexion. "Burilda, could you be a dear and get us the address for a shop owned by a non-mag couple, Wendell and Monica Wilkins."

Burilda flashed him a quick smile, "Sure, just a minute." She stepped away from the counter and disappeared into a small room. In less than a minute she reappeared and handed the Auror a small piece of paper. "Here you go, Hubbard," she stated, "and don't be such a stranger here."

Scott smiled back at the woman, "I can't help it that my assignments often keep me away from here for extended periods of time," he said in feigned protest. "But I'll try to swing by later in the week, maybe we could catch a bite to eat later."

"Of, don't worry about me," replied Burilda with a big smile again, "just take care of this Sheila you have with you."

Hermione was surprised by the banter between the two, particularly with the obvious hint at something possibly going on between herself and the Auror who was helping her.

Scott noticed the concern on Hermione's face. "Don't worry about what she said," he reassured her, "Burilda sees herself as a matchmaker for some reason. She is always trying to set me up with some woman."

Hermione blushed slightly at what he said.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable," he added.

Hermione brushed some hair behind her ear, "No, no, it's alright, really."

Scott looked at the paper in in his hand. "We should be able to walk there, it's not too far away. Although, if you wanted, we could take a cab, it is only about 16 degrees out today." ( _N.b: For those form the States, 16 degrees C is about 61 degrees F_ ).

Hermione appreciated the offer of a cab, but declined. It was comfortable weather for her, and compared to the cold and rainy seasons in Scotland this was quite pleasant. They started to make their way to the address that Scott was given and after about 25 minutes of walking, Scott stopped and pointed across the street.

Hermione looked at the sign on the shop across the street. "Wilkin's Confectionaries," she read aloud. "Oh, my god," she stated slowly and quietly. "My parents own a sweet shop?! How could this be?" Hermione was completely unprepared for this development.

"Er, is something wrong," asked Scott. He looked at Hermione, his brows knitted together. She had both hands covering her gaping mouth.

"What did I do?" she asked, tears streaming from her eyes. "My parents were dentists, dentists! How could they have opened a candy store? Now, of course Ronald would have thought it just absolutely brilliant that my parents owned a sweet shop. But, then again, Ronald isn't even here anymore. Oh, and I haven't even thought about Ron for weeks, I've been so preoccupied with finding my parents. And now this, I must have done something horrible to them when I cast that memory charm on them. They somehow became their exact opposites! When the authorities find out what I did I will probably be locked up forever or worse, I could have my wand snapped and my magic bound."

Scott's eyes were wide with amazement, having never witnessed someone spout so much so quickly. "It'll be alright, Hermione, settle down, girl," he said in a calming tone as he grasped her by the shoulders. "We don't, you don't know anything yet about what happened. All we know is that the store says Wilkin's Confectionaries. You haven't even gone in to speak to them, to find out what happened."

Hermione wiped her tears away and took a deep breath before she apologised for her little episode. "I'm sorry, when I get nervous I just go running off at the mouth." She took a deep breath and added, "And they won't even know who I am!"

"Hey, I get it, this must be quite a stressful experience," he said looking deeply into her eyes. "But you're not alone here. I'll be with you. If things don't go well when you go in and meet them, I'll be there. I'm here for you, I'm here to help."

Hermione smiled at him. "Thanks, that means a lot." She then laughed a little and looked back in his eyes. "I know we only just met yesterday, but you've been really helpful. You're like a good friend, no, make that a great friend."

"I'd like to say I'm just doing my job," Scott admitted, "but I feel like I'm helping an old friend with this, not just doing an assignment."

The two stared at each other for a minute, until Scott finally spoke up. "I think you need to go in, I'll be right behind you."

Hermione bit her lip and nodded silently. She started to cross the road and went to open the door to the sweet shop. She stopped short as she entered the little store as she saw her mother standing behind the counter, wiping off the scale. The door had bells that jingled, announcing that someone had entered, and her mother looked up and started to greet the new customer.

"Welcome to….," then her jaw dropped. "Hermione? You're Hermione. Why do I know your name?"

Hermione was caught off guard by having her mother speak to her and call her by her name. Scott came up short behind her. At that moment, Hermione's father stepped out from out back, "Honey, who are you talking to?" Then he noticed that his wife was staring at a customer and his eyes turned to see who had caused her to go so quiet with apparent shock. "Erm, Hermione?" he asked as well.

Hermione turned and looked at Scott who shook his head as he wasn't sure what was going on. Hermione then turned back and walked up to the counter. "Mum, dad, it's me, Hermione."

"Hermione?" her mother repeated the question as if she was trying to process things. Then she turned to her husband. She seemed to get excited, "See Wendell, no, Daniel, your name is Daniel. Those dreams I have been having, they were based on what is true, those memories were our lives before…before something happened." She then spun around and looked at her daughter. "It is true, isn't it? You're our daughter, Hermione, and you sent us here. There was some sort of war going on, but the news hasn't said anything about any war in England."

Wendell, or rather Daniel, shook his head as he looked back and forth between his wife and his daughter. "Monica, um, Emma, you, she, why is this so damned confusing?" He almost glared at his daughter. "Why did you do this? What did you do to us?" Before she could answer him, he looked at the man standing behind his daughter. "You, I don't know you. You're not that Ron person, or that Harry person. Although, I'm glad you're not Ron. Everything we ever heard about him indicated he was a piggish git who cared nothing about anything other than his stomach."

"I'm not Ron or Harry," replied the Auror calmly. "My name is Scott, and I'm here to help Hermione find you again."

Daniel Granger was about to speak again, but his wife, Emma, cut him off. "You shush right now, dear." She looked at her daughter. "Obviously you're safe, I suppose this war you spoke of is over." She looked at the calendar on the wall to her left and then back at her daughter. "Has it really been over a year? Goodness, I don't know whether I should hug you for seeing that you're safe or if I should yell at you for what you did to us."

Hermione was crying, "I'm so sorry I did that to you, to the both of you. I was scared, I was scared for you. I didn't want the Death Eaters to come after you, to try and get to me and by doing so get to Harry. They did so many awful horrible things during the war, we saw so many horrible things."

Emma was walking around the counter and was now embracing her daughter. "We love you, Hermione, we can't stay mad at you. That doesn't mean we're not hurt that you did this, whatever this was that you did."

Daniel then spoke up as he put a hand on his daughter's shoulder. "You said they did horrible things to people. Did they do horrible things to you? What happened?"

Hermione was leaning her head into her mother's shoulder and neck when she felt her father's hand on her shoulder. She closed her eyes tight to block out the memories of what happened, of what they all went through. Then almost in a whisper she began to speak, "It was a long year, a long war. Things were difficult. They tried to hurt us, but they didn't do anything really bad." She pressed her arm with scars left behind by Bellatrix into her mother as if that would hide them from ever being seen by her parents. After a minute of silently hugging her mother she stepped back and looked her parents in the eyes. Then she took a deep breath and looked around the shop.

"I know I took away your memories, but I thought that you would still be dentists," she stated. "But this, this candy shop? This couldn't be further from the truth of your past than I could ever have imagined!"

Her father laughed at her comments. "We kept thinking we were supposed to start a business here, continue what we used to do, and we kept thinking about sweets. I suppose it has to do with our constantly telling our patients to brush their teeth and avoid sweets. Somehow all we could recall was that we talked about sweets and candies, so we opened up this shop." He then looked around the shop himself, then he started to laugh. "If our friends and colleagues in the British Dental Association could see us now…"

"They'd never speak to us again," finished Emma.

"So, are you going to return to England, now?" asked Hermione.

Her mother leaned away from her and almost glared at her daughter. "Why would you ask that? Especially right now? We only just relearned about our daughter and about our true past. Although I must admit there is still a lot of foggy and sketchy memories." She then turned to her husband, "Did we really like to go to those beaches in France for vacation?"

Daniel's face turned bright red. "So, those are real memories and not just vivid dreams?"

Hermione's eyes opened wide. "What beaches did you go to in France? When you left me to do school programs in Paris, you said you were going to tour the Riviera…" Then her face went red as well. "You two went to _those_ beaches?" She turned to face away from her parents. "I can't believe you would do that!"

"That's a story and talk for another time," stated Emma. "However, there is so much to get caught up on, I think the shop will be closed for today. Are you staying nearby?"

Hermione looked to Scott who then understood the questioning look in her eyes. He then responded for her, "Yes, she has a room at one of the hotels downtown. We, um, she, just arrived from Sydney this morning. I'll make sure that her luggage gets to her room, and I can meet up with you all later. I'll give you some time alone as a family," he added with a smile.

Hermione turned to Scott and shook her head slightly. "I'd really like it if you stayed while I talk with my parents. Just in case there is any unexpected side effects from the memory charm."

"I suppose I can make those arrangements later," replied Scott, agreeing to her request.

Daniel took down the OPEN flag and closed the blinds to the store and then locked the front door. "Why don't we go out back, we have room we could speak there."

Emma then corrected him, "The backroom? No. We can just go upstairs and use the living room." She turned to Hermione and Scott as she added, "We live in the apartment upstairs. It is actually quite roomy and comfortable." Then directing her comments to Hermione, "Nothing like the old house in England. Is the house still there? Do we still own the house?"

Hermione's eyes went big as she gasped, "Oh, Merlin, I have no idea! I never thought to check up on the house!"

Soon they were all seated around a coffee table in a comfortable living room, enjoying tea and biscuits. Hermione told them all about the past year, about going on the run with Harry and Ron, about being chased by Death Eaters, about having a mission from Dumbledore of things they needed to do just so Harry could defeat Tom Riddle. She went to tell them about going to Gringotts, but she couldn't find any words when she tried to do that. She told them about the Battle of Hogwarts, about how many of their friends had died or were hurt. Then she told them of the attacks after the war, of how the Weasley's were all killed, of how others were attacked, including the Death Eaters who had been captured and thrown back into the wizarding prison, Azkaban.

"So, you and Harry," stated Daniel, "he's your boyfriend then, after everything you've been through." There was a clear undertone of overprotectiveness in his words.

"No, daddy," replied Hermione, feeling like a little girl when her dad spoke that way, "Harry is my friend, he's my best friend." She paused and took a deep breath. "I was dating Ron, briefly. Then I broke up with him. And that was just before the Weasley home was attacked. I miss him, but I'm glad I broke up with him before the attack. We really would have been horrible as a couple. He was lazy, and a glutton, and had no interest in studying or bettering himself. He only cared about food and Quidditch."

Her father was listening closely to her reply and then his eyes narrowed. "And nothing ever happened between you and this Harry, the hero, while you spent the year running all over England and Scotland, camping together in one small little tent?"

Hermione sighed at her father's directness and overprotectiveness. "First of all, father," her tone was irritated and more formal, "nothing happened between me or either of the boys. And if anything did happen, that would have been between them and me, and not any of your business. I am an adult in the eyes of the magical world. Secondly, it was a magical tent, which meant that it had multiple rooms inside of it, even if on the outside to a muggle, a nonmagical, it would like a simple small tent."

Scott reached over and squeezed one of her hands to comfort her as she replied. She looked over at him and gave him a quick smile before turning to face her father once again.

Her father's eyes went wide in response to the verbal reprimand he had just received from his daughter. He choked out an apology, "I'm sorry, Hermione, it's just that all of these memories are flooding back, and the fear and uncertainty of all of this, I just couldn't bear to think any bad things might have happened to you. It's called being a father, a dad."

Hermione's expression softened as she stepped up to her father and gave him a big hug. After a minute the two separated again.

After visiting and catching up over the next couple of hours, Scott commented that he would need to check in with his supervisors. Hermione was going to go with him and get settled into her room at the hotel, and then they would all meet for dinner at a restaurant later that evening. Hermione was still feeling anxious about everything with her parents although she now had a sense of relief in that she had found them and they actually remembered her.

* * *

LDW 15.4

* * *

Upon arriving back at the DMLE offices in Brisbane, Scott commented that he had to go speak with someone in particular and he left Hermione at the main desk, in the company of Burilda. After Hermione had been fidgeting awkwardly for a couple of minutes, the clerk spoke up.

"Miss Granger, it is almost a little odd that Hubbard is assigned to your case," she stated simply.

The sudden words startled Hermione slightly and she spun around to look at Burilda. "What? Why would that be odd?"

"Hubbard is more of an international agent," the woman began to explain. "Usually travelling around the world, not keeping focused on cases here in Australia."

"That might explain his knowledge of what happened over the past year or so in England," surmised Hermione.

Burilda snorted at the comment. "Oh, please, honey, everyone here has been reading about what has been going on, at least as much information as has been escaping from the United Kingdom. Despite your magical government's attempts to prevent any information from heading to the international magical community at large, witches and wizards outside of the British Isles have been learning about what has been going on. So, if the people here actually knew who you are, you would be swarmed with well wishers and fans. We have heard the tales of what you and Harry Potter accomplished, but no one really had any idea what you looked like."

"But the Daily Prophet, they published pictures of us," said Hermione thoughtfully.

"What? That useless rag of pro-ministry propaganda? No one outside of Great Britain in the magical world pays any attention to it," laughed Burilda. "The non-mag would liken it to what they call a grocery store rag, a magazine that sells itself by making up outrageous and fanciful stories about stars and politicians."

"I am familiar with the concept," conceded Hermione, frowning at the idea that so many had such a low opinion of the one major magical newspaper from Great Britain. But when she considered articles such as the ones claiming she broke Harry's heart during their fourth year, she could easily understand the comparison. "But, why, then, would an international agent be assigned to work with me?" she wondered aloud as she picked up on the initial comments from Burilda.

A deep voice answered the question and Hermione turned to see another wizard, one who had greying hair but was otherwise strong and healthy looking, walking up to them. "I can explain to you why, Miss Granger," stated the man as he extended a hand to greet her. "Wilson Sykes, senior Auror and international liaison coordinator," he stated by way of introduction. "Once I became aware that someone of your stature made their way to our country I wanted to get the best operative I had who was available to check up on why you were here and what you were up to. It's not everyday we have celebrity witches making unannounced trips to our beautiful land."

Hermione shook the offered hand and didn't let go at first as she listened to his introduction. She blushed slightly as she quickly withdrew her hand which caused Sykes to give her a reassuring smile. "I didn't mean to cause any trouble," she stated defensively.

"And from what I have recently learned, you have caused no trouble," stated Sykes. "I just came over from Sydney to follow up with Hubbard on his investigation and his report. He is right now meeting with some of our top mind healers, ones who can give a better evaluation of your parents and what happened with the memory charms that were placed." Sensing the worry on Hermione's face, he added, "Don't worry, Miss Granger, this is not a criminal investigation at all. We're just happy to offer whatever services we can to support someone who was so integral in bringing a stop to the madness that was occurring over there in England and Scotland."

Hermione smiled at his comments. "Why, thank you sir, that is most kind and generous of you. So far, Scott, erm, Auror Hubbard has been very helpful."

"I'm glad to hear that," stated Scott as he walked up from behind Hermione. "I see you've met my supervisor, the one who kindly assigned me to your case, or situation." Hermione was happy to see the Auror again. Then Hubbard added, "At least he didn't assign Gibson to your case, he's a bit on the eccentric side, and his personal habits are not the nicest."

Hermione wasn't sure how to respond to that comment, until Burilda added, "Trust me, you're right, you wouldn't have wanted Gibson working with you. He's a bit of a hot head at times, gives internal affairs more work then they ever needed."

"I would never have assigned Gibson to the Granger case, best to keep him under Glover's watchful eye as much as possible," stated Sykes emphatically. Then he addressed Hubbard, "So, what did those healers say?"

"They can make their evaluation tomorrow morning," answered Hubbard, "either here or at the Grangers, or Wilkins' home."

The details were discussed further between the men, and then it was decided that when Hermione met up with her parents over dinner she would ask them if they would be willing to have the mind healers give them an exam and possibly repair any damage that might have been caused by the charms that were used, particularly in light of the way those charms collapsed when Hermione walked into the shop. Hermione was soon on her way to her hotel, and was surprised to find out that she was given a VIP suite. Hubbard just smiled knowingly when they arrived at her room. He sat in the lounge area while Hermione settled into the bedroom and used the facilities to freshen up. Upon returning to speak with Hubbard, she complained that she couldn't afford such an expensive suite, he dismissed her concerns. "My department wanted to provide the best for a young witch who is viewed upon as a hero internationally. Think of it as a gift of thanks from the magical government here in Australia."

* * *

LDW 15.5

* * *

A writer for the Daily Prophet had managed to secure an interview with one Draco Malfoy, who had been making regular public appearances, be it in Diagon Alley, or Hogsmeade, or even the atrium of the ministry of magic. The two were seated at a table in the Leaky Cauldron while the reporter was asking his questions.

"You're a marked Death Eater, you have a scheduled trial coming up," stated the reporter, "so why all of this talk about unifying the magical world?"

Draco smirked at the man. "Are you daft? Are you blind? Have you been hiding under a rock for the past twenty or thirty years? I was _forced_ to take this mark for the safety of my family. And no, I am not proud of that. I was brought up in a home that taught the lies and propaganda that fed the hatred that led to the last two wizard wars in this land. Voldemort, Tom Riddle, lived in my family home and forced everyone to bow down to him. And yes, he was a powerful and dangerous wizard. And yes he spoke about pure-bloods needing to be in power. But he was a sham. He was a half-blood. Right there he single handedly proved the nonsense of what the Death Eaters were saying, that pure-bloods were better wizards. He fed into their egos, made them full of themselves, so they could fight for him to get him power. He never shared his power. And he didn't just target the muggle-born, he attacked pure-blood families. Under the excuse that they were blood traitors. But then he would lie and state he wanted no magical blood spilled. What he wanted was power, and he didn't care who he hurt or killed to get it."

"That's an awful lot," stated the reporter who had a magical quill busily copying down what Draco was saying.

"I am not ashamed of my heritage, and no wizard or witch should be," continued the young blonde wizard. "But those who do not have the amount of magical heritage, the lineage of which the pure-bloods are so proud, they should not be ashamed of their heritage. We need to forge a single magical community, one that encourages _all_ of us to be the best witch or wizard we can be. We need to teach those without magical ancestry about our ways, about what it means to grow up in the magical society, and why we keep ourselves separate from the muggles. We can learn about the muggles from the muggle-born, and we should not assume we know about them based on what was learned one hundred or more years ago."

The quill continued to scribble furiously, and the reporter shook his head, amazed by what a Malfoy of all people was saying to him. "But why? What brought about this change? Your'e a pure blood, a self confessed marked Death Eater."

"The war happened, life happened, not dying happened," came the very casual reply. "When I was a student at Hogwarts I professed that 'all the pure-bloods are better than everyone else' drivel that had been ingrained in me from my father. I treated others whom I looked at as lesser than me, which would be everyone; as though they were dirt in the soles of my shoes. And Potter, yes, Harry Potter, had the audacity to refuse my offer for friendship when we first met on the train at the start of our first year. That same muggle raised half blood continued to torment me over the next several years in school at just abut every turn. No matter what happened, he, Potter, came out on top. Regardless of whether it was because of favouritism from Professor Dumbledore or the brilliance of the mind of his muggle born friend Granger, Harry Potter always landed on his feet. By the time I was in my seventh year and having to deal with the Dark Lord appropriating my home, treating my entire family like dragon dung, I had my eyes opened to the truth of magic. Blood does not matter. I actually, in a small way, helped save him once during the war, Potter that is. But that is not a matter I shall discuss. What perhaps is more telling, and more important, is that during the great Battle at Hogwarts, Harry Potter had the opportunity to save me, to save my life. And despite years of giving him every reason to let me die in that one instance, _he_ chose to save _my_ life. Not because of my blood, but in spite of it. Not because of who I am, but in spite of it. I am here today because of the mercy of one whom I had ridiculed, plotted against, railed against. And my eyes and my mind were opened to the truth."

Draco took a breath and let the quill catch up with his rant. Then he continued with a renewed vigour, "It is only through working together that the world of magic can survive in the face of muggles, a muggle world that we do not understand and does not understand us. We must keep the Statute of Secrecy intact, and the actions of certain Death Eaters and Tom Riddle were going to destroy the statute. We would have _all_ been at risk, our society would have been doomed. This is confirmed by the actions of those who militantly are attacking our people: the former Death Eaters and the Sacred 28. Either we will work together to fight this, or we will perish."

The reporter raised an eyebrow, "You sound as though you are campaigning to become Minister for Magic."

Draco Malfoy sighed. "I am not aware of any upcoming elections,"he replied dismissively, "so I could hardly be campaigning for anything, except for our survival as a people."

"And yet you confess your sins and profess your desire to help others," observed the reporter. "That is not very Slytherin of you, sir."

"Hogwarts House politics will play no role in whether we live or die as a magical people," declared Draco. "I know I am targeted by these thugs, these very skilled thugs. So, no, I am not being a Gryffindor and trying to paint a circle on my back, because that circle is already there. Maybe it is a little bit of Hufflepuff rubbing off on me, loyalty to my friends, and to those I do not know. Maybe it is a little bit of Ravenclaw, having the wisdom to see that we must come together in order to survive."

"How profound," quipped the reporter, whose quill furiously recorded that last juicy tidbit.

"I will leave you with one final thought, one final quote," drawled Draco. "Hogwarts was not founded by one witch or wizard, but by the actions of four people working together. A house divided against itself cannot stand, is a quote from somewhere. As magical beings, we cannot be divided."

With that, Draco stood up from the table and walked out of the Leaky Cauldron.

* * *

LDW 15.6

* * *

" _Other people can go home...Other people they can split_

 _I'll be here all the time...I can never quit"_

 **Tuesday, August 18**

 **Somewhere in London**

Harry walked into the alley, and saw the marking on the door at the end, indicating that this was where he was to meet with someone based on the final message that he had received from Staci before leaving New England. That thought almost made Harry laugh, that he had left his home country of England to train in a part of the United States known as New England. The irony was somehow amusing to him as he was about to have his first clandestine meeting, and this just after returning to his homeland.

The door was unlocked and had no protective spells on it, he determined with a simple wandless and silently cast detection spell. 'Constant vigilance,' the words of Mad-eye Moody came echoing in his mind. He gently grabbed the handle, almost expecting a shock or some other surprise, but it simply turned in his hand and the door swung open, and quietly at that, to Harry's relief. The building was dark, but he used a special charm placed on his glasses to be able to see where he was going, so much wiser than casting a lumos charm and announcing his presence to whomever was already present.

He came to a room at the end of the hall. After opening the door, which was also unguarded and unlocked, he stepped through. On the other side of the large room, sat a man behind a desk. His appearance was cast in shadow as the only light in the room was coming through a sky light that was behind the man. Harry took a few tentative steps forward before stopping and once again using his silent detection spell.

"So this room is warded against magical attacks," Harry proclaimed to the individual sitting behind the desk.

The man laughed. "You made no move to cast a spell, you uttered no incantation, I must say, the Yanks did great work with you in such a short period of time," called back a very familiar voice.

"It's good to see you again, Kingsley," replied Harry who relaxed as he strode across the room to properly greet the Minister for Magic and his friend.

Kingsley stood up and they shared a brief but familiar hug.

"A little bit of cloak and dagger going on?" asked Harry.

"We thought it best not to alert the general public, or anyone within the ministry, of your return," commented Kingsley. "To keep your return secret from Barnes and Middleton and their people. We have not had any direct actions from them in weeks. It is merely a matter of time, I fear, however."

Harry was surprised that no further attacks had happened, and shared his concern about this with Kingsley.

"Our people have determined that their teams have gone into hiding since their attack on Grimmauld place," Shack went on to explain. "They are most likely planning more attacks, but have become more careful, especially as they are on the run from the muggle government as well. Thankfully we now have a united front to deal with them, the Ministry that is and the muggles."

Harry asked the obvious question, "Who are they planning to attack?"

Kingsley sighed and then stated, "Well, we do know that they are targeting the families of the Sacred 28." There was a slight pause before he continued. "Now that you have returned with your training, our plan is to use you as our secret weapon to stop these people, and hopefully capture them. The muggles don't care whether they are captured alive or dead."

Harry frowned at that idea. He had hoped that the war was over the morning after he had defeated Riddle. But instead, he had been thrust into a new war, and once again, it was all being laid upon him to be the one to fight the war, against unknown odds, against an apparently superior opponent, and with little help from anyone else. He muttered a simple "Bloody hell" as he pondered his once again nearly hopeless plight. But at least this time, he had received some sort of special training. That thought brought the smallest of smiles to his lips.

Kingsley ignored the smile and continued. "The Unspeakables have come up with a special port key for your use. It is designed for multiple uses and it can take you to any of their homes, the homes of the Sacred 28. Well, almost any." He then slid a small pendant across the table towards Harry. "It will work by intent. Croaker will contact you shortly to review how to use it."

Harry was about to ask more about the port key when he heard footsteps coming from behind him. He turned around to see an older woman with a stern countenance approaching them. Harry turned to look at Kingsley's reaction and noticed he had a slight smile on his face.

"It is good to see you again, M," stated Kingsley.

"Oh, stuff it, Minister," replied the cantankerous sounding woman, "you know as well as I do that you have no happiness in seeing me." Then she turned to Harry, "And you must be the infamous Harry Potter, the one who magical Britain has to thank for what you did, and will have to thank for what certain individuals expect you to do."

Harry smiled thinly at the greeting and then quietly commented to Shacklebolt, "Is she always this cheerful?"

Harry then noted that she was followed by a tall man with dark hair and wearing a very expensive looking suit or tuxedo. So far, the man had remained silent.

Shacklebolt conjured several chairs, and indicated for everyone to take a seat. Harry sat so that Shack was on his left and he was facing M and the other gentleman.

M took a seat with the other man seated behind her and to her right.

"This is 008, one of my top agents," she began. "He is here to work with your young Mr. Potter. We feel an individual with more experience in dealing with this sort of threat would benefit this mission."

Harry looked at Kingsley and he could see that the minister was not pleased.

"This is not what we discussed," declared Kingsley, the irritation was clear in his voice.

Harry looked back and forth between the man and the Minister for Magic. "What exactly is he supposed to do to help me?"

"Anything you need," replied M confidently.

Harry grunted slightly, then spoke up. "I need to track down magic users using muggle weapons and magical attacks, and you want this penguin to help me? You didn't mention that he had any magical skills."

The 'penguin' glared at Harry. "I have a certain set of skills."

Harry scoffed, "Which won't help you in dealing with who we need to deal with if you can't use magic."

"I think I can handle myself," the 'penguin' added smugly.

Harry shook his head. "But you can't even handle me, I bet…"

M turned to Shacklebolt, "What a cocky little prick you have here."

Shacklebolt raised an eyebrow at her brash talk. "Harry is not the sort of person I would want to anger. I would remind you that he did take down the darkest wizard in recent history, single handedly at that."

"From what I hear, it was luck and a prophesy that allowed him to do that," spoke up the 'penguin' again.

Harry ignored the comment. "Do you have a wedding to attend, or a bar mitzvah, or are you late for an evening at the casino?"

"How droll," replied the 'penguin.'

Harry turned to Shack, "He will only slow me down, you do know that."

Shack shrugged and nodded. "I never approved of this partnership."

Harry felt a little irritated at being given a muggle operative to work with him. And after his experiences learning new skills across the pond, as it were, he decided he would give a little demonstration. "So, I might consider allowing you to tag along, if you can keep up, if you can somehow manage to either knock me out or subdue me, or even hurt me. What say you to a little duel?"

"What do you mean? A little sparring?" The penguin turned to his boss and his expression asked if he should follow through with the challenge.

M smiled a little in response, "Go ahead and take the little upstart down a peg or two."

Harry looked at Shacklebolt. "So, Shack, if you could be so kind as to lower the protective wards in this room, then we can begin."

Shack nodded in response, and waved his hand slightly. Harry nodded in response when he detected that the anti-magic wards had dissipated.

Harry stood up from his chair and walked across the room to where there was more room for a little sparring or duel. 008 stood up and walked towards where Harry was standing. He wasted no time in making his move against Harry, swinging an arm out to grab him. Harry's physical training at the camp was more than helpful as he simply dodged the first attack by leaning back. His would-be-assailant made a few more moves to come after Harry, who simply avoided any contact as he manoeuvred around until he was back against a wall.

"Is that all you got? These magical thugs we need to deal with are going to be doing more than standing still as punching bags," said Harry.

008 then flicked his wrist and suddenly he had a knife in his hand.

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Now this is starting to get interesting." He dodged a couple of stabs and slices. Then, with a quick wandless spell, Harry knocked the knife out of the other man's hand.

"Never bring a knife to a gun fight," taunted Harry.

Suddenly a small pistol appeared in the agent's hand and he aimed it at Harry's leg.

Harry now had his wand in his right hand and a shield appeared as the trigger was pulled. Several rounds bounced off of the shield before the firing stopped. Suddenly a bright flash came from Harry's other wand which had appeared in his left hand, and the agent was sent flying across the room, only to crash into the wall and collapse on the ground. The man was a little startled and was now disarmed. Harry kicked the fallen pistol to the side as he walked part way across the room and bound him with magical ropes.

"Perhaps more important than not bringing a knife to a gun fight is to not bring a gun to a magical fight," quipped Harry.

Harry then turned to M. "The people we need, or that I need to catch, are not going to simply disarm and incapacitate someone who gets in their way. They have already shown that they intend to kill. If you want to lose an agent, then by all means, have him tag along. But I won't be responsible for his blood or his neck."

Shack refrained from grinning too broadly. M hid a pout and then calmly spoke to the Minister for Magic. "Do let me know if you think any of my team may be of assistance to you."

She turned to Harry. "You are out-manned and they have muggle weapons and magic at their disposal. You, young man, do not stand a chance. And I dare say that your arrogance will get you killed."

Harry suppressed a laugh at her comments. His training in America taught him more than just magical skills. "Think what you want, but I didn't stand a chance as a toddler the night my parents were murdered. I didn't stand a chance any time I faced off against Tom Riddle after that night, which was nearly an annual occurrence from when I was eleven until earlier this year. But I have taken and will take every advantage I can and I will not hesitate to do what needs to be done to deal with the mess. Perhaps the penguin here can clean up after I'm done."

Harry turned to Shack. "I need to get some things settled. Do be in touch."

Harry was making his way towards the door when he stopped and turned to face the minister and M. "Oh, one thing before I go. You both want this group stopped. So, am I allowed to use any means necessary? Any force necessary? Any spell necessary?"

Kingsley looked to M and she nodded curtly. He turned back to Harry and simply said, "Do what you must do, but they must be stopped."

As Harry was heading out of the door, Kingsley called after him, "And please, keep the collateral damage to a minimum. And don't forget, Croaker will be meeting with you, soon."

* * *

LDW 15.7

* * *

" _Take a walk through the land of shadows_

 _Take a walk through the peaceful meadows_

 _Try not to look so disappointed_

 _It isn't what you hoped for, is it?"_

 **August 19, 1998**

Barnes sat at the table at the front of the room, with Middleton, Smythe and Jonas sitting across from him. "Our benefactor has expressed concern that the goals of our mission have not been furthered in recent weeks. I have explained to him the necessity of our laying low in addition to the importance of a well laid out plan so that we will have success. Nonetheless, he is expecting further action, and his expectations will be met with out plans for tomorrow. Along those lines, we also need to be prepared for any and all responses from either the Ministry of Magic or MI-5."

"What about Potter?" asked Middleton. "He is bound to try and interfere with anything we do. Particularly after the attack on his home failed to kill him, and only injured the harpy."

"Potter could be a problem," acknowledged Barnes. "However, as far as we know, from the reports we have received, Potter took a runner, probably scared or upset over his friends losing it and the fact that we managed to attack him in his home. Our sources have not been able to track where he went, so he is most likely not a factor at this time."

The other three nodded in agreement.

Barnes looked at the three of them and continued, "So, your final plans are ready? The plans all sounded good to me. Gather your team and head on out. While the ministry might have an idea we will attack again, they still don't know exactly where or when. Everyone on this team should be ready to leave in five minutes."

At 9:30 that morning, the DMLE headquarters had an alarm that sounded. One of the Junior Aurors ran into Robards office. "The detection runes at the Greengrass Manor just indicated that their wards have collapsed. They must be under attack!"

Robards frowned. "Alert the Auror response team. They need to be able to leave within ten minutes!"

When the Junior Auror left his office, Robards cursed under his breath. He then pulled out a small glass mirror and then quickly called out a command into it.

Harry Potter had a ring on his right hand that warmed and alerted him to a message from the Ministry. He then grasped the port-key pendant that was hanging around his neck, and whispered, "Greengrass Manor." He disappeared from his room without a sound.

* * *

 **AN: Yes, this is a little bit of a cliff hanger….but hopefully the next chapter will be out soon….**

 **Special thanks to Dorothea Greengrass - who has helped with editing this chapter. (Yes, I actually had someone beta read and edit a chapter before posting it!)**

 **And don't forget to read all of her stories….**

" **Memories Can't Wait" - (c) 1979 - Jerry Harrison and David Byrne, Talking Heads, "Fear of Music"**


	16. Chapter 16 (edited)

**AN: This is a reposting of this chapter. The original post had many errors and parts were in draft format. My apologies. Thanks again to Dorothea Greengrass for pointing out I posted the wrong one...sorry for the problems...**

* * *

LDW 16

" _I'd like to kiss you, I'd love you hold you_

 _I ain't got no time for that now_

 _Get you instructions, follow directions_

 _Then you should change your address_

 _Maybe tomorrow, maybe the next day_

 _whatever you think is best_

 _Burned all my notebooks, what good are_

 _Notebooks? They won't help me survive_

 _My chest is aching, burns like a furnace_

 _The burning keeps me alive"_

* * *

 **Life During Wartime - The Fight Resumes….**

* * *

 _ **AN: Pay attention to dates/times - this chapter starts BEFORE the end of the last chapter….**_

* * *

 **August 18, 1998**

Harry was irritated by the meeting with Shacklebolt, or more specifically, that this M person and the agent that had tagged along with the leader of MI-5 had shown up. While he had no difficulty dispensing with the agent, he would have preferred not to have to deal with the unnecessary confrontation. Harry left the meeting with Shacklebolt and M knowing that he needed to find a place to stay. Grimmauld Place had been compromised at best, and he had not yet learned of any other homes or apartments that he may have owned. The group that had taken out the inmates at Azkaban and many of the Death Eaters, as well as the Weasley family, had already broken through wards at Longbottom Manor, Abbot Manor and most recently Grimmauld Place. Harry had also heard about the attacks on Slughorn and the Carrows, so he knew that he would need some sort of secure place to stay. An idea hit him. The next second, he grimaced and gulped down the bile that rose in his throat. Had he just considered to return to that cursed place? Everything in him baulked at the thought, but there was also that pesky little voice in the back of his head that told him to get over himself. Nobody would expect him to go there, so it made the most sense from the practical standpoint of not likely being found by the group of terrorists.

The last he saw of that home was the day before his 17th birthday and he had no idea if anyone was still there or if his cousin and aunt and uncle had moved back. He recalled how the Order of Phoenix, the ones who had arranged for his escape on the fateful night that saw his owl and Mad-Eye Moody both get killed had also strongly urged his relatives to vacate the house.

Harry summoned Kreacher to his side and asked the elderly elf if he could check on a muggle home. The elderly house elf gave him a look of utter distaste, but obeyed to his order, and returned a few moments later.

"There is a house there, Master Harry, sir," said Kreacher. "There is no one staying there, although it looks as though someone still lives there."

Harry frowned. What did the elf mean by that? He'd better check it out himself. "Were there any wards in place?" he asked the elf.

"Only one that is active, Master Harry," replied the elf. "There were old wards, dark wards that are not working, they still give off some magic. One ward that makes it look like someone is living inside the house is still there. It also makes the outside of the house look like someone is taking care of the house. But there are no detection wards. No wards to suck your magic away. Foolish wizard magic, a good house elf could have done all of that and done it better."

Harry closed his eyes as he considered what he had just been told. Then he simply nodded in response to what Kreacher was telling him. "I'm sure you could have done a fine job, with the proper motivation." He smiled at the elf. "Can you apparate us to the back yard, so that no one will see us arrive?"

"That is simple," said Kreacher.

Harry felt a slight pop as he arrived in the backyard of a typical middle class home. He took in the garden in the back and the simple structure of the home, the first house of which he had any memories. Nothing had changed. Harry took a deep breath as he looked around, realising that the home was still completely vacated by the Dursleys. He cast a quick detection charm, and picked up on the old blood wards that previously were rejuvenated by his magic every summer.

Kreacher followed Harry through the back door of the house and into the kitchen. Inside, the house looked almost identical to how it had looked when he left the night before his 17th birthday. Harry shuddered as he let his eyes wander around around, questioning his decision to even come to this place.

"Master Harry does not like this home," Kreacher said. It was a statement, not a question.

"No, Kreacher, I most certainly do not," replied Harry. "Too many unpleasant memories."

"Then change the house, Master," commented the elf. "Remove everything that caused bad memories."

"That might take too long," Harry said with a frown.

"Not if Kreacher uses elf magic to fix house," stated Kreacher.

Harry turned and looked at the elderly house elf. "If you can do that, then why didn't you ever do anything to help the appearance at Grimmauld place?"

"Bad Master Sirius not ask Kreacher to help," said the house elf without any real emotion. "Bad Master Sirius not ask to change house, only have blood-traitors and phoenix people come to house. Not worth fixing the Black home for those people."

Harry wasn't sure how to take the message from the house elf when he was startled by a knock on the front door. His heart started pumping, and his head jerked towards the noise. Nobody could possibly know he was here. He slipped his wand in his hand and peered through the small window in the front door.

The man outside was a complete stranger, dressed like a muggle, he peered over his shoulder from time to time, as if he didn't want to be seen.

A wizard, Harry decided. However was this a friend or foe?

Harry called out through the door, "Hello there, how can I help you?"

"You can help me by opening the door and letting me, Mister Potter," came the quick reply. "My name is Saul Croaker, I'm from the Department of Mysteries. So, if you would kindly let me in before any of the neighbours take notice."

Harry opened the door and let the wizard enter the house. "And just why are you here, Mister Croaker and how in Merlin's name did you even find me?"

Croaker took a quick glance around the house, and his eyes grew wide as he noticed the decorations on the walls changing and even some of the walls moving from one place to another. However, he recovered quickly and turned back to Harry, "I'm here on official ministry business, at the request of Minister Shacklebolt. I'm an Unspeakable, and as to how I found you here, that's classified. I can't tell you about it. Why do you think we're called Unspeakables?"

Harry simply shrugged his shoulders at the comment. "So, what does Shack want you to do for me?"

Croaker raised an eyebrow. "Several things, most importantly is to give you this," he said as he pulled out a pendant with an ornately crafted silver shield, about 3 centimetres in diameter. "This item needs to be keyed to you and your magic, so that you can command it to do what you need it to with a touch and a thought. It's also keyed to the homes of the remaining members of the Sacred 28."

Harry was about to ask why, but Croaker cut him off. "We will need a drop of your blood, and then I need you to cast a simple lumos charm. Once we have done that, I can begin to teach you about this special pendant."

Harry eyed the pendant carefully. He reached out to touch it, but Croaker snatched it away. "Careful there, we need to finish this. It is not based on typical magic that wizards use, but elven magic."

Harry cast a puzzled look at the Unspeakable.

"Have you never wondered how house elves get around so easily? Around Hogwarts? Around all of magical Britain?" asked Croaker.

Harry nodded as he was reminded of how Dobby had been able to get in and around Privet Drive before his second year.

"Well, we have used elven based magic in this, which allows it, or you, the wearer of this amulet, to bypass typical wards. It works more like a port-key but without the nasty spinning feeling, or the pull through your navel," added Croaker.

Harry nodded and Croaker pointed to one of the small gems on the amulet. "This stone here, will receive alarms when any of the home of the Sacred 28 are attacked. It will then allow you to be transported to that site. So, if the group that attacked you at the Black family home in London were to attack any others of the Sacred 28, you would be able to respond quickly."

Harry's eyes widened as he considered what he was told, and he was worried about the implications of this. "Why not send a team of Aurors?"

Croaker smiled at the young wizard. "Good question, it shows you're thinking. Well, the group would be expecting a team, not an individual."

Harry knew he had special training, but why was this all being put on him? One wizard?

Croaker sensed Harry's unease. "A team of Aurors will be sent, but they cannot be kept on standby 24-7, so they would have to be brought together. And they will not know that you have already been sent."

Harry shook his head, feeling more confused with every new detail that Croaker related to him. "Wait! Why won't they know that I am also going to be responding?"

"Because we don't want the group of terrorists to know that you have been trained. We want to keep your return to England, and your specialised skill set a secret from them," stated Croaker.

Harry raised an eyebrow in response.

"Hey kid, you are the special weapon for this fight," stated Croaker. "Yes, I understand that you were used as the special weapon against Tom Riddle, and yes we know what Voldemort's real name was. You did pretty damn good considering that fool Dumbledore chose not to train you or prepare you for that battle. But that's not important right now. What is important is that we don't know if they will attack tonight, tomorrow, next week, next month or next year; but we do know for sure that this group will attack again. And we need you to be our first response."

Harry was about to ask Croaker why the Unspeakables weren't the first responders, but Croaker spoke up before Harry could even voice his concern.

"We're researchers, we specialise in studying the mysteries of magic, not fighting battles," said Croaker.

Before Harry could even question him about how he knew the question he was going to ask, Croaker had disappeared, leaving Harry with the amulet in his hand, and the image of Croaker's eerie smile.

"That guy is strange," said Harry to his now empty room.

* * *

LDW 16.2

* * *

 **Wednesday**

 **August 19, 1998**

 **9 AM**

Draco Malfoy had begun his nearly daily public speech, calling on the ministry to do more for the magical citizens of Britain. As usual a small crowd had gathered to listen to him, but many just went about their business, ignoring the now commonplace event.

One of the Aurors assigned to Diagon Alley was keeping an eye on the small group of witches and wizards listening to him. He slowly walked amongst the group, ignoring the actual words that the young pure-blood wizard was spouting. Suddenly he noticed a bright orange flash appear out of the corner of his right eye. He whirled around to determine where it came from, only to see a slight blur where the spell had originated from. Whoever had cast the spell had used a port-key to escape. Loud screams behind him drew his attention away from the spot from where the attacker had disappeared. Once again he whirled around. The crowd had gathered around someone who had fallen to the ground. He looked around, and cursed under his breath. Draco Malfoy was no longer standing on his soap box.

* * *

LDW 16.2.2

* * *

In a warehouse: (about 09:15 AM)

 _Barnes looked at the three of them and continued, "So, your final plans are ready? The plans all sounded good to me. Gather your team and head on out. While the ministry might have an idea we will attack again, they still don't know exactly where or when. Everyone on this team should be ready to leave in five minutes."_

Middleton spoke up before leaving. "And where are you heading off to?" he asked, noting that Barnes had a leather satchel in his hand.

"I have a meeting shortly with our _benefactor_ ," said Regis. "He wants to be apprised of our current plans, and he has been growing impatient. No need to keep the one paying for our secret headquarters to lose faith in us, or our goals."

Middleton nodded in response. "No, of course not." After a slight pause, he added, "At least business is good, so we continue to be supplied with food and equipment."

"And as long as his business continues to improve, our work will continue to be supported." Barnes looked at his watch, then back at Middleton. "The team needs to leave now, and I need to leave soon, myself."

* * *

LDW 16.2.3

* * *

The auror made his way through the crowd and found the young Malfoy lying on his side, his left shoulder a bloody mess. Someone had tossed him some cloth which he was using to try and stop the bleeding. He looked up when he noticed the Auror robes appearing beside him.

"Did you see who did this?" he demanded. Then he moaned in pain, clenched his teeth, and gave the Auror a strained look. "Never mind, I think you need to get me to St. Mungo's."

The auror stuttered briefly. "Um, oh, yes, St. Mungo's. Right you are."

Draco closed his eyes in pain for a moment. When he opened them again, they glared daggers at the Auror. "Now would be a good time for me," he snapped. "I'd just apparate there myself but with this injury I'd probably just splinch myself and lose part of my other arm."

The auror shook his head once at the rebuke, and then reached out and took a hold of Draco's uninjured arm. "This shouldn't hurt - too much," he declared as he cast the spell to apparate the two of them to St. Mungo's.

The duo arrived in the middle of the receiving ward at St. Mungo's. Draco let out a slight scream of pain as they landed on the cold stone floor. A healer rushed over, pulled Draco's hand away, and began to cast quick spells to essentially apply first aid, but soon called out for some more help. A minute later three witches arrived with a stretcher on wheels, and one of them levitated the injured young man onto the thin bed. "Take him to room 5B, and prepare some healing potions, a blood replenisher and some Skele-grow," the healer called out. Then she turned to the auror who was still a little shocked with everything. "Perhaps you should contact your superior and begin to make your report," she said calmly. "Unless, of course, you have any useful and specific information you can share with me about what happened."

The auror nodded in response. "Well, there was an orange spell, I didn't hear the incantation, and right after I saw the flash of orange the person who cast it disappeared."

"That means that it was most likely a confrigo spell that was cast at the young man," stated the healer with a frown. "Well, that's consistent with the injuries. It appears as though the victim of the attack was diving out of the way of the spell and luckily he managed to only have his shoulder damaged. Lucky or quick, or perhaps a bit of both," she observed.

* * *

LDW 16.3

* * *

" _Trouble in transit, got through the roadblock_

 _we blended with the crowd_

 _We got computer, we're tapping phone lines_

 _I know that ain't allowed_

 _We dress like students, we dress like housewives_

 _or in a suit and a tie_

 _I changed my hairstyle, so many times now_

 _I don't know what I look like!"_

 **0930**

 **Greengrass Manor**

The crashing of the wards created a loud gong like sound to reverberate around the Greengrass Manor. Daphne Greengrass had been out in the garden, looking over some of the herbs that were growing there, to see if they were ready to be harvested for potion ingredients. At the sound of the wards system collapsing, she whirled around and gaped at the manor. A large orange flash hit the main building, and part of the manor exploded. Daphne stood rooted to the spot, her brain refusing to understand what her eyes saw. Then she screamed. Her family home was under attack. There was no way she'd let the bastards go on without a fight. She let her wand slip out of her holster and looked around. Where were those cowards?

The members of Team Beta quickly approached the now damaged structure. Middleton signalled to one of the men that there was someone in the gardens out back, and the rest of the team made their way to the less damaged east wing of the home where the residential rooms were located. He led the way through a broken door and cast a spell to remove the smoke from the room which they were entering. He quickly called out, "Homenum Revelio." The spell revealed evidence of individuals in the rooms above them. He indicated with a wave of his hand the general direction of where their targets were located, and waited as his comrades in terror made their way through a hallway and then began firing off their automatic weapons. Two of the glowing shadows blinked out.

"One more to go," Middleton sneered.

Outside in the garden, Daphne was about to make her way into the damaged manor when ropes wrapped around her, and she fell to the ground.

"That ought to hold you," commented an unfamiliar voice from behind her.

She cursed herself for not hearing someone cast the body bind curse a moment before. A hand grabbed her by the back of her robes and started to drag her through the garden. "Just because I have to get you to the edge of our own anti-apparition wards doesn't mean I have to make it easy on you," her assailant said.

The next moment he dropped her hard onto the ground as someone materialised as if out on thin air right in front of him. "What the hell? Who are you?" He raised his rifle and fired.

The newcomer raised a magical shield which stopped the bullet.

"Damn you," the assailant swore.

"I'm your worst nightmare," the newcomer said, and pointed his wand at his chest.

The assailant lowered the rifle and pointed it at Daphne, who lay on the ground. "Drop your gun, or this witch gets it," he sneered.

Harry shook his head. "Did you watch too many bad movies when you were young?"

The man narrowed his eyes. "I'm serious! Drop. Your. Wand!"

Harry shrugged and tossed his wand to the ground.

The man laughed and raised his rifle at Harry. The same second as his finger pulled the trigger, Harry sent a blasting curse at him with his left hand. Harry's aim was off; his hex hit the ground in front of the would be kidnapper, the blowback sent him falling backwards, and the gun flew out of his hands.

Harry released the magical bindings from around Daphne and offered her a hand to help her get to her feet.

"Thanks, I think," said Daphne as she got back to her feet. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed her assailant starting to move, whipped her her wand out and sent a blasting hex at the man. His body arched, he cried out in pain, and then lay motionless.

"There are more, in the house, they're after my family," said Daphne, panting in between each phrase.

Harry looked up and saw several men running from the part of the house that was not engulfed in flames. "Are those them?" he asked, quite sure he knew the answer.

Daphne looked up and saw the men running away. Harry didn't wait for an answer and sent a blasting hex at the group, however, his spell was too late; they apparated away a split second before the spell reached its target.

"Merlin's hairy beard," muttered Harry.

Before he could say anything else, there was a loud explosion. On instinct, Harry raised a shield to protect himself and Daphne.

Daphne screamed. "My parents were in there." She gasped and added, "My sister!"

"Don't you have house elves?" asked Harry.

"We did," stated Daphne, tears streaming down her face.

"They should have used them to get away if they were trapped inside," commented Harry. He winced inwardly as he noticed how cold his voice sounded. That girl had just lost her family, for Merlin's sake. However, now was not the time for condolences.

She gave him a questioning look, and he made the necessary explanation. "House elf apparation can't be blocked by most wizards."

Daphne swayed on her feet. Her stomach roiled, and she had a strange sense of irreality; this was a nightmare, she'd surely wake up any moment. She startled at his cold words.

"What?" Her face flushed and then she snapped at her rescuer. "My family just died and now you tell me how they could have survived?"

Harry frowned, and the blood shot into his face. "I'm sorry, um, well," he stuttered. "This came across harsher than I intended. Well, you see, there was an anti-apparition ward placed around the manor once they dropped your wards. Your family couldn't have made it away on their own, but a house elf might have been able to take them away safely. But, yeah, that doesn't help now, I guess."

Daphne looked at the burning remains of her home and then back at the stammering Harry. She rubbed her face with both hands for a moment, then shook her head slightly. "Anti-apparation wards? Then how did you get here?"

Harry smirked in response, "Trade secret."

Daphne simply glared at her former classmate from school. "That was the group that has been targeting pure-bloods and took out the Death Eaters at Azkaban, wasn't it?" She didn't wait for him to respond and rattled of a string of invectives. It was better to curse than to think of mum, dad and Tori right now. The anger kept the hurt away. However, her anger needed a target, or she'd suffocate. She stepped toward Harry and grabbed him by the collar of his robes. Shaking him, she hissed, "You arrived here pretty damn quick. How did you get here so soon? You could have saved them all!"

Harry opened his mouth, but never uttered a word when she slapped him across the face. "And the worst thing about this is that, I, a Greengrass, had to be saved by Harry bloody Potter!"

"Hey, you were being dragged away by that terrorist," Harry tried to console her.

Daphne glared at him. "It wasn't my fault! Somehow the man managed to get the drop on me, as they say. And that never happens to me."

Harry gave her a knowing glance. He knew her anger was masking her grief, and the guilt she was beginning to feel because she survived while her parents and sister were dead. He'd been there, too, a horrible summer long after he'd watched Cedric being murdered in the graveyard.

She had nothing to be sorry for. He knew she had a reputation for being able to take care of herself at Hogwarts. Most of the males at the school did not want to risk getting on her bad side, and if she hadn't been caught by surprise, she probably would have put up a fight. Though, she was no match for that group of terrorists.

His raised eyebrow seemed to anger her even more. "I survived seven years in the Slytherin dorms, with my virtue intact. Clearly I must have developed some skills."

Harry held back an outright laugh. "Skills at hexing the bits off of overly zealous pigs is one thing, skills in fighting trained mercenaries and killers using muggle weapons and magic is another thing altogether." It was the truth, but not what she wanted to hear right now.

The colour on her cheeks deepened, and her blue eyes shot daggers at him. "I will not sit back as a helpless damsel. They killed my family, I demand to get my revenge."

"Revenge is not a very good business to be in," declared Harry. "Particularly if you're not prepared for it."

Daphne blinked at the young man standing in front of her. Was that really Potter? This was not the meak and ignorant Harry Potter that Malfoy described during their first years at school. He had skill beyond what most people really knew until that night in May just a few short months ago. Even though, that didn't give him the right to rule her. Her anger returned in full force.

"And you're the one who is prepared to do that? Get revenge? For your friends? For all of the magicals who have been killed already? For my family?"

She couldn't go on; her throat constricted and she had to hold back her tears. She gritted her teeth. She was a Greengrass, she wouldn't break down in front of him. She took a deep, calming breath, and in a matter of seconds she stood back up, her eyes dry. She hugged herself, rubbing her hands up and down her arms, and her face became stern. "I will fight for my family. It is all that I have left. Let me join you."

Harry shook his head. "You will only slow me down or get in my way."

Daphne straightened up. She wouldn't allow him to cast her aside. "You can't possibly know that."

"I have as much of a personal vendetta against them as anyone," said Harry. "The Weasley's were the closest thing I had to family. They went on to attack my friends, even attack me in my home. And they have made it clear they will not stop. It is my job now to stop this."

Daphne laughed at him. "You? Who put you in charge of this? You must have a way overdeveloped sense of self worth. Fine, you defeated He Who Must Not Be Named, but that doesn't make you the one who needs to stop every dark lord and vicious threat."

"No, it doesn't," answered Harry calmly, much more calmly than Daphne would have expected. "But I was the one sent to receive special training for dealing with these bastards, so, yeah, that is what makes it my job."

That silenced her.

"So, now what?" demanded Daphne after an awkward pause.

"We find a place for you to stay, and I get back to work," said Harry.

"No, I don't think so," contradicted Daphne. Harry raised an eyebrow at her comment, which she ignored as she continued. "I told you, I am in this. And I will follow you and I will help you. I will avenge my family."

Harry was not willing to continue this argument. "Fine, have it your way. We can head to my place, and figure out what we will do next."

"Fine," snapped Daphne in reply.

"Fine," repeated Harry.

"Then what about him?" asked Daphne waving in the general direction of her assailant who started to groan and move slightly.

Harry sent a backhanded spell in the direction of the man on the ground, which resulted in another scream of pain and the man remaining motionless on the ground.

Daphne gasped, "Did you just kill him?"

"No, at least that shouldn't have," he said, now turning to look at the man. "I just sent an overpowered stunner his way."

"Without your wand?" she asked, clearly surprised.

Harry shrugged, "One doesn't always have a wand available, so you do what you can."

Daphne was about to say something in response when Harry put up his hand. "Did you hear that? Someone else has arrived." Harry had heard the sound of people arriving by apparation just outside of the anti-apparition wards left behind by the terrorist team.

"That's probably the Aurors," said Harry. "So, let's leave."

"What about that jerk?" Daphne asked and indicated at the unconscious man who had tried to abduct her.

"We can leave him for the Aurors, but we should leave," he said as he reached out and took a hold of one of her hands with his left hand and grabbed his pendant with his right. In a silent flash they disappeared from the Greengrass Estate.

* * *

LDW 16.4

* * *

Hermione spent the next evening visiting with her parents. They had spent time discussing their options and Hermione was sad when her parents informed her that they would be staying in Australia.

"But I thought you would want to return to your dental practice," said Hermione.

Wendell looked at Monica and then back to their daughter. "We haven't done any dentistry in over a year. You already sold our practice when you had us move. While this may seem strange to you, we've decided to keep living this new life."

Hermione was about to ask more questions about why, when her mother shook her head to stop her and then she went on to explain. "We're not blaming you for this, dear," she emphasised, "but we find this life more relaxing than we ever felt with our busy practice. While it may seem so contrary to what we used to do back in England, this has become what we enjoy."

Hermione's father added, "And it will be simpler for us to continue using these names, these identities you have given us. That will avoid too many questions from everyone around here."

Hermione took a deep breath as she resigned herself to leaving her parents behind.

Noting her discomfort, her mother added, "We would still love for you to come visit us, anytime you want."

Hermione nodded slowly, and she turned to Scott, giving him a questioning look.

He cleared his throat slightly and answered her unasked question. "Well, you can stay here as long as you like, as a special guest of the Australian Magical Government. Or you can return anytime." He paused and gave an uneasy qualifier for his statement. "But, actually, returning to Great Britain may prove a little more difficult. It seems your Ministry of Magic has placed some travel restrictions."

Hermione looked as though she was about to cry, and Scott reached out to place a hand on her shoulder. "Hey, relax, we'll figure something out. In fact, with some of my connections, I'm pretty sure that I can help you make your trip back home safely, and without any problems." She squeezed his hand in thanks, and he added, "Or perhaps your friend, Harry Potter, he may be able to help facilitate your getting back in. Seeing as he's only slightly more of a hero to everyone there than you are."

Hermione considered what Scott had said, and let out a deep breath. "But I'm not sure that I could contact him that easily," she said as she thought about her best friend. "Although, it would be good to see him again." She looked up at Scott, hopeful that he would help her get back to England. "You've been so helpful already, with helping me find my mum and dad. I feel like I shouldn't ask for anything more, but I really would appreciate any more help that you could give me."

"Consider it done," affirmed Scott. "Perhaps you know someone or somewhere we could stay along the way."

Hermione thought for a moment, then offered, "Well, there's Fleur, Fleur Delacour, and her family. They live in France. I think Fleur returned home. I'm sure we could get in touch with her. If we can get to France, then getting back to England shouldn't be hard at all."

Scott smiled at Hermione, "That sounds like a great idea."

* * *

LDW 16.5

* * *

" _Why stay in college? Why go to night school?_

 _Gonna be different this time_

 _Can't write a letter, can't send a postcard,_

 _I can't write nothing at all_

 _This ain't no party, this ain't no disco,_

 _This ain't no fooling around"_

 **Somewhere in England…(still August 19) (1030)**

Large ornate wooden doors guarded the room as though they may be a door to an ancient vault; a vault she could not enter. So ran the thought through the mind of a young witch as she passed back and forth outside of the entrance to her father's study. Occasionally the young woman would cast glances at the door. After about fifteen minutes of pacing, she was able to detect that a privacy ward had been brought down. Hesitating only a moment, she approached the door and knocked. She opened the large door without waiting for a response from inside.

"Father, you have been in here most of the day," complained the dark haired woman.

Her father spun around from where he was standing near the private floo in the large room. "Of course, my precious autumn flower," said the older man with a large smile. "I have been working on securing the family's future."

The young witch scoffed at her father's words. "You have been working on securing the family's future since before I was born," she snapped.

"Before you were born, there was little chance for our family to become prominent in this land," said the man. "We were always considered outsiders, while we are pure-blood magic users from our home land, we were still looked upon as outsiders here in this land."

The young woman continued her pacing in the room as her father tried to explain his position. She then stopped and eyed her father carefully. "Then what is it that has changed, father?"

"Everything has changed," said the man with a broad grin. "Those who would have kept us down as a family, those who have not permitted us to be a full part of this magical society, they have been dispensed with. And furthermore, those who have prevented our family business from flourishing are being dealt with as we speak."

The young woman stared at the man in front of her. She tilted her head slightly as she tried to detect precisely what he was implying. Then she posed a question to her father. "Whose side were you really on during this latest war?"

Her father's face betrayed puzzlement in response to her question.

"Whose side are you on now? Whose side were you on before?" she demanded. "When I was in school, you wanted me to join the Inquisitorial Squad, why? Did you side with the Dark Lord and his followers?"

"I wanted you to be safe during the last war," he said quietly, trying to calm the apparent anger with his daughter. "I could see what was happening."

The young woman wanted clarification. "And exactly what was happening?"

He smiled and said simply. "The pure-bloods were winning."

She narrowed her eyes, then stated the obvious. "But they didn't win."

Her father had moved closer to his desk and leaned against it. "Who expected that when the Death Eaters were taking over?"

"Clearly not you," snapped the young witch.

Her father sighed at the still evident anger. "I've always done what is best for this family. You do not get to judge me."

The young woman threw her head back, her hair streamed down her back in a large wave. "I need to do what is best for this family."

The man was clearly irritated by her comment. "It is not your time to do that," he chastised. "I have made our family strong and safe."

"But you still won't let me run the family business," protested his daughter. "You still won't let me make my own decisions. You're too cautious."

"I'm cautious? Of course I am," he declared. "The men need to be able to complete the objectives so we can have our long term success. The family business will thrive, especially after the competition from the pure-blood families will no longer exist."

The young woman crossed her arms over her chest. "Are you so foolish that you would think that no one could trace any of this back to you?"

Her father pulled back slightly in response to her question. "Why would they?"

The witch scoffed. "Who is set up to gain the most from the recent events? Our family, that's who."

"But they will never find any connection," countered her father.

The young witch let out a deep breath. "No, they won't, not if they have no reason to suspect our family."

Her father stood up a little straighter. "What do you mean, no reason?"

Suddenly she had her wand in her hand and cast a spell at the main ward stone in the middle of the house. The wards came crashing down with a loud bang.

Her father stared at her in shock. "What have you done?"

The young woman gave him a smile, "What needs to be done. For survival. For the survival of this family."

Before he could react, her father noted that she had a pistol in her hand. And before he could summon his wand, the man had collapsed in a heap on the floor.

With another smile on her face, she first cast a spell to remove the various listening and spying charms she had previously placed in this office. This was followed by her casting a spell which sent out a silvery flash which materialised into a silver swan. "To the ministry," she declared, "tell them, 'Help, we're under attack!'"

The patronus messenger left to relay the message, and she took the time to cast several bombarda charms against various walls, using a spare wand she had pulled out of her robes. Once she had finished casting the spells to make it appear that a large battle had taken place, she took the wand and placed it into a chest, along with the pistol. Then she took a small token which she affixed to the top of the chest. She had previously turned the token into a port-key, and with stating the activation phrase, she sent the chest away.

The woman then examined everything in the room, and felt that she had satisfactorily set everything up. Still, she had just one more task to complete.

First, she cast a magical shield around her father's body where he laid on the ground in a slowly enlarging puddle of his own blood. Next, she fired a less powerful blasting hex at the magical shield. The shield responded with a loud gong-like sound and then dissipated. The spell however had rebounded off of the shield and hit her square in the chest, sending the young woman flying into the wall and then collapsing to the floor, knocked unconscious. Her final thought before the spell rebounded into her was "Good, they will never suspect me now."

* * *

LDW 16.6

* * *

" _Try to stay healthy, physical fitness_

 _Don't want to catch no disease_

 _Try to be careful, don't take no chances_

 _You better watch what you say"_

 **Privet Drive. August 19, 13:00**

Harry arrived in the middle of the garage, with Daphne holding onto his arm. The pure-blood witch looked around, her curiosity leading her to ask, "Just where in Merlin's name are we, Potter?"

Harry suppressed laughing at her. "This is a muggle garage. Usually used as a place for muggles to park their cars, their automobiles, out of the rain and weather. It also happens to be a convenient place to apparate to in the middle of a muggle neighbourhood without worrying about violating the statute of secrecy."

"A muggle neighbourhood?" she asked with a gasp.

"I can think of no better place for a wizard to hide," he stated with a shrug. "Besides, my relatives lived here when I was growing up. While I have no pleasant memories of this place whatsoever, it is the last place anyone would ever consider looking for me. Or for you for that matter."

Daphne frowned, "I don't need to hide!"

"Actually, you probably do," said Harry as he crossed his arms in front of him and took a slight step back, appraising her with his eyes. "Your family was just murdered and your home was destroyed. One of those involved with the attack on your family was either going to kill you or kidnap you, probably the latter. As you so politely pointed out earlier, the ones who killed your family managed to get away. Once they realise that you are neither dead nor in their custody, you will be targeted."

"And how do you know we're safe here?"

"My house elf, the Black family elf, has been working on fixing up the house, and he has been adjusting the protective wards," explained Harry. "We still need to determine how the terrorists managed to find the Black family home and attack me before I went to the States earlier this summer, and once we finish with that this place will be even more secure."

Daphne looked around the garage and noticed various garden tools and other muggle devices. "So, muggles don't live in a room like this?"

Harry couldn't hold back a bark of laughter. "Merlin, no. I already said, this is where they would park a car. They have houses, very similar to witches and wizards. Although they don't use magic, of course, but they have electrical devices and running water and such."

Daphne nodded and then frowned. "I am not completely ignorant of muggle ways. I have been to London before. I have seen street lights, and muggles stores, and these cars, and all of that."

"Good, then I shouldn't have to explain too much to you," said Harry. "Might as well head over to the house and see just what Kreacher has accomplished."

The two stepped out of the garage and made their way to the back door of the house. Harry noted that the outside looked just as it always had when he was growing up. While that bothered him slightly, he did understand the necessity of keeping the outside appearances the same. That would prevent both the neighbours from noticing anything unusual, and anyone who might be trying to discover anything about Harry or his relatives from becoming suspicious.

As they stepped into the kitchen, Harry noticed that it had been totally done over with clean counters, new cabinets and new appliances. He was surprised but pleased with how much it had changed. After letting out a slight whistle, he led the way to the rest of the downstairs which was now two rooms. One was a well furnished lounge, with a couple of very comfortable appearing sofas and other chairs, in addition to a large TV screen on one side. Harry called out to Kreacher who suddenly appeared.

"Kreacher, there is a TV here, and other muggle electronics," said the surprised young man.

"Of course, Master Harry," replied the house elf. "Master Harry grew up with muggles, and he would be used to muggle things. I checked with the goblins and they arranged for the purchases. They also offered rune stones that would protect the muggle devices from the effects of magic. For a fee of course."

"Of course," echoed Daphne.

Harry was surprised, "Then why do wizards say they can't have electronic devices near magic?"

"Wizards refuse to ask goblins for advice or help. Apparently goblins secretly like to watch movies, something called Star Wars captured their interest," stated the elderly elf as though the information made sense.

"In that case, why don't you show me the rest of the house," commented Harry.

Kreacher showed Harry the study that was across from the main entryway from the lounge. The stairway, and the broom closet underneath, was completely removed. In its place at the end of the hallway from the front door towards the kitchen was a wrought iron circular staircase.

"You got rid of the cupboard under the stairs," commented Harry softly; so softly that Daphne barely made out his words.

Kreacher gave a slight smile, which came across as more of an angry sneer. "There was bad things that happened in the cupboard. Kreacher could sense something was wrong." He hesitated for a moment before he added, "The rotten old mattress would have been uncomfortable for any house elf. House elves live better than who ever used to live there."

Harry quietly responded, "Thank you, Kreacher."

Daphne wondered what they were referring to, but she could tell from the seriousness of the mood that she ought dare not ask anything further about the old cupboard, or at least not right now. The group then made their way up the spiral staircase and Kreacher showed them the series of bedrooms, each with its own en suite.

The rooms were all very nicely decorated, with satin or silk covers over the beds, and warm rugs over hardwood floors. Harry wouldn't have believed he was in 4 Privet Drive if he hadn't seen the neighbourhood with his own eyes before entering the house. Harry turned to Kreacher, "But where will you be staying?"

"Kreacher made himself a room in the basement. Much nicer than the old cupboard at Mistress Walburga's house," replied the elf.

With that, the elderly elf popped away. Harry turned to Daphne, "I guess you can have your pick of the bedrooms, if you insist on following me. Which, as I said earlier, may actually be the safest place for you at this time." Harry closed his eyes as he realised that his initial reluctance to having this witch whom he barely knew stay with him was probably the best thing in the long-run for her.

Daphne slowly looked at the four bedrooms, and then pointed to one near the front of the house. It had silver and green as the major colours decorating the room indicating that she would stay there. She pointed to the largest bedroom, which was decorated in Gryffindor colours of red and gold. "I do believe that your odd little elf meant for you to take that room, Potter."

Harry ran a hand through his unruly hair as he simply nodded in agreement.

After an awkward moment, Daphne spoke up. "Um, Potter, I don't have any clothes, or personal belongings. In case you hadn't figured it out, everything I own was lost when my home was destroyed."

"Well, we could go do some shopping," commented Harry, "although we probably ought to stick with muggle areas."

Daphne initially had a look of concern on her face, but Harry quickly added. "It will be my treat. We can take a bus to the city where we can find all kinds of shops. Or have Kreacher bring us to somewhere safe in London so we can shop there if you would prefer."

"That would be satisfactory," replied Daphne.

Harry called Kreacher and asked him if he could take them to London near the shopping district. The elf readily agreed to help them. Before they left Daphne had a puzzled look on her face.

Harry inclined his head, silently asking what seemed to be bothering her.

"Something you said, earlier, about your other home," stated Daphne.

"And what was that?" he asked.

"You indicated that you were surprised that these terrorists managed to find your home and attack you there," she observed.

Harry nodded in acknowledgment of her statement.

"The way you spoke about it, well, it would indicate that your home was protected, perhaps by a Fidelius Charm," she continued. "But if they found you, they would have had to find a way to break through the Fidelius."

"Well, yes, that's true," stated Harry. "However, I have no idea how they may have done it. Break the Fidelius, that is"

"They would have had to have a way to either learn the secret or find a way to track something there," commented Daphne, feeling a little more sure of her train of thought.

"But I can't think of any way that they would have been able to get in there, to track anything there," countered Harry.

"You have a very resourceful house elf," said Daphne. "Perhaps you could ask him to go back to the house and see if he found anything out of the ordinary for a magical home."

Before Harry could respond, Kreacher spoke up. "I can go there after bringing you to London. Then I can look for how the bad men were able to find the Black home and ruin Kreacher's soup."

Daphne turned to look at Harry as she mouthed silently, "Ruined his soup?"

"You don't want to know," replied Harry. "But I leave you with this simple word of warning, don't mess with anything Kreacher may be working on in the kitchen."

"Good to know," she said, shaking her head slightly.

A few hours later, the unlikely duo had finished their shopping for clothes in muggle London. They stepped into an alley and Harry called for Kreacher. With a quiet pop the aged house elf appeared. "Master Harry, I found one of your robes has an unusual magical mark on it," he declared before Harry or Daphne could say anything else.

"Did you bring it with you?" asked Harry.

"Of course not," stated Kreacher as if it was a foregone conclusion. "If that mark is what brought the bad men who ruined my soup to Mistress' house, then it could bring them after us once again."

"He is right, you know," said Daphne, assessing the house elf. "How did you get this smart elf, anyway."

"I am apparently the heir to the Black family," explained Harry. "And Kreacher has been serving the Blacks for several generations."

"Kreacher had to serve stupid dog-man, who disgraced the family," proclaimed the elf, "but bad-master Harry became good master Harry when he completed Kreacher's task of destroying the evil locket."

Daphne looked back and forth between the two, then simply asked, "Do I even want to know?"

"It was all part of what I had to do to be able to take down Tom Riddle," Harry said trying to downplay what he had done the previous year.

"Tom Riddle? The one that the paper said was who became the Dark Lord, He Who Must Not Be Named?"

"The one and the same," said Harry. "And no, I'm not saying anything more about that." He considered what Kreacher had said about the robes. "Perhaps you can bring the robe to Croaker, the Unspeakable who came by last night. He may be able to make something of the magical mark."

Before Harry could say anything else, the house elf had disappeared.

"Now what are we supposed to do?" wondered Daphne.

Harry shrugged as he said, "You hold the bags, I'll hold your arm and I'll apparate us back to the garage."

After arriving back at Privet Drive, they put away their new purchases and went to settle down in the living room. As they were about to watch a movie on Harry's television system there was a pop, and Kreacher appeared. "Mysterious Croaker will be here shortly," he announced. "Oh, and Master Harry needs to meet with goblins, to make his claim as Lord Black," and then he made his way to the kitchen to prepare dinner.

Daphne was about to settle onto one of the sofas and then she shuddered. The memories of the events of the day came flooding back, and she closed her eyes. Daphne let out a slight groan as a variety of emotions washed over her. She looked around the room, at everything that Potter had, and realised that she had nothing. "This is so unfair," she suddenly screamed out.

"What is so unfair?" asked Harry, surprised by her sudden outburst.

"Life, the universe, everything," she moaned.

Harry stopped himself from shouting out the number forty-two, as he was sure a pure-blood witch would not be familiar with the works of a muggle writer, particularly one Douglas Adams.

"I've lost everything," she growled. "They've taken everything away from me. My family, my home, everything we owned!"

Harry wasn't sure how to respond to her emotional meltdown. He had experienced so much loss in his own life, so he tried to diffuse her anger a little. "We all have lost something to these people."

His words stung her, and seemed hollow to her in her emotional state. Daphne stepped back and looked him up and down, before sneering at him. "Yes, you lost your precious little fangirl, who was obsessed with you since she was out of nappies. My heart bleeds for your loss."

Harry was shocked by her words. "What did Ginny ever do to you?"

Daphne tossed her head to flip some strands of hair out of her face. "To me, nothing. To any girl out there who might have wanted to get to know you? She threatened them. She staked her claim on you even when she was dating others. It was her self proclaimed right to have you, because you saved her when she was a little firstie, which, according to her little mind, proved how much _you_ loved her. You just needed to keep your attention focused on her, so she wanted to make sure you knew how much you really wanted her. So she set about making you jealous."

Harry was taken aback by such a Hermionesque rant. "What the bloody hell are you ranting about?"

Daphne folded her arms across her chest. "Nothing, if you're going to refuse to hear it."

Harry shook his head in confusion. "What the, what does all this have to do with the loss of your family?"

Daphne was angry with herself for letting all of that out. She blamed it on her emotions from losing her family causing her to let her mouth run when she knew quite well that she shouldn't have revealed any of the things she had just ranted about.

She took a deep breath and turned away from him slightly. "Nothing, I'm, I'm sorry. That just came out. I am upset about my family, about my family's home." She closed her eyes, and saw the image of the smouldering ruins of her family's home. Then with a slight sob she added, "I have nothing left. Those terrorists, as you called them, who _you_ let get away, they took everything from me."

Harry was unsure of what to do. He thought of Cho Chang breaking down into tears every time she thought of Cedric, but he understood that this was worse. He thought of what Hermione did for him whenever he had experienced loss, whether it be Sirius at the Department of Mysteries, or Hedwig during his escape from this very house, or all those who died at the Battle of Hogwarts. Slowly he stepped towards Daphne, and silently and slowly wrapped his arms around her in a gentle hug.

Harry could feel the tenseness of her muscles relax as she slowly melted into his embrace, and quietly cried onto his shoulder.

* * *

LDW 16.7

* * *

A small team of aurors had arrived at the Chang family home. They found an unconscious Cho Chang who was distraught upon being revived when she learned that her father had been killed. The auror team then summoned Gawain Robards who already was irritated by how busy his day had become. He reviewed the investigation and findings with the aurors before he returned to give a report to the Minister for Magic, after leaving instructions with the auror team for assisting Miss Chang.

Kingsley Shacklebolt had called in his senior staff as they listened to Robards summary of the day.

"First we had the attack on Mister Malfoy in Diagon Alley," stated the head of the DMLE. "This was soon followed by the attack on the Greengrass Manor. The third attack was against the Chang family, and Suk Chang, who usually used the name 'Steve,' was found to have been killed by a muggle gun. His daughter, Cho Chang, a recent graduate from Hogwarts, was injured, but managed to survive."

One of the department heads asked if there were any survivors at the Greengrass estate. Robards looked to Kingsley briefly before responding. "One of the members of the terrorist group was found in the gardens, severely injured. The home itself was destroyed, and there was no evidence of any survivors."

"So, another pure-blood family is ended," sighed one of the staff.

"But at least someone was captured," said another one.

"Actually, he was not captured," said Robards. "When the aurors found him, he was coming around, after having sustained multiple injuries. He may have been in a duel before the house was destroyed. When he noticed he was surrounded by multiple wizards, he went to pull a muggle firearm out of his jacket. In an attempt to disarm him, the spell that was cast at him caused further injuries, and these new injuries proved to be fatal."

"Well, at least it is one less of those barbaric animals," proclaimed the first one who spoke up.

Soon the remaining questions were answered as best as Robards could, and the group was dismissed. Kingsley had asked for Gawain to remain behind. A minute later they were joined by Croaker. Shacklebolt pulled a bottle of fire whiskey out from one of the drawers in his desk and conjured three small glasses.

"So tell me, my friends, what do you make of all of this?"

Robards looked to Croaker for an answer, knowing that he had all of the same information.

Croaker rubbed the back of his head briefly before he began a slow answer. "First of all, we know Potter responded to the ward alarms. I presume he is the one who took out the injured terrorist." Then he inclined his head towards Robards, "And I noticed you made no mention of Potter in your report."

"We all know that the less that is known publicly about his return, the better," stated Robards, reiterating the previously discussed plan for working with the young wizard.

"However," continued Croaker, "the attack against the Chang family does not make sense. They were not Death Eaters, and they were definitely not a part of the Sacred 28. Something has changed if they are now being targeted."

"Were they open supporters of You Know Who in the past?" asked Robards.

Kingsley shook his head with a frown, "No, not at all, Albus never indicated that their family was even leaning towards siding with Voldemort during either of the last two wars. And at one point, young Harry had a crush on Miss Chang."

"Something doesn't add up then," Robards said, stating what was now becoming quite clear. He looked back at Croaker. "And your conclusions about the attack on Malfoy?" But before Croaker could answer, Robards turned to Shacklebolt and asked, "Do we have any information from St. Mungo's yet about how the young wizard is doing?"

The minister also looked to the head of the Department of Mysteries and was not happy to see the man frown. "We are still investigating the attack that occurred against Mister Malfoy," said Croaker. "I do believe that we have enough information from the magical residue we can match with a wand, so if there is a suspect, we can examine his wand."

Kingsley added, "The healers report he should make a full recovery. However, the young man is refusing to take any special protection or change his plans for speaking in public. He stated he would try to remain cautious and alert, as he also pointed out that he noticed someone moving to cast a spell from the back of the crowd. But he could not recall anything in particular about the individual. He is at least easier to talk to than his father, but still he offers little in the way of actually useful information."

Croaker spoke up, "Did the aurors search the body of the fallen terrorist? Did he have an emergency port-key hidden on him?"

Robards closed his eyes and shook his head. "No, that was not reported, but we have a lot of new people, perhaps we should re-examine the body and his possessions."

* * *

LDW 16.8

* * *

" _You make me shiver, I feel so tender_

 _We make a pretty good team_

 _Don't get exhausted, I'll do some driving_

 _you ought to get some sleep"_

Hermione, accompanied by Scott Hubbard, arrived at the iron gate of a long winding road that led up to a Chateau in the distance.

"So, this is the Loire Valley," commented Scott as they waited for someone to greet them at the gate.

"Yes, it is, and it's a very pretty area," replied Hermione. "I thought you've travelled around the world with your role for the Australian DMLE."

Scott rubbed the back of his neck. "I've been to a lot of places, however, this part of France is not one of them. Oh, I've been to Paris and all that, but never to a rural place such as this."

A minute later, a coach arrived at the gate, being pulled by two handsome white horses. There was no obvious driver, however. The gate swung open, the two made their way towards the coach; the coach door opened and they climbed in. As they sat down, a voice called out from the middle of the coach.

"Welcome to Chateau Delacour, we will meet you at the main entrance when you arrive. Please enjoy the short ride."

Hermione looked to Scott who simply shrugged his shoulders. "This is a magical family, and we have seen plenty of other unusual things, or at least I have, and considering the stories of the adventures you and your friends have had, this should be pretty tame compared to what you've experienced."

It wasn't long before the carriage stopped in front of the Chateau, a large white manor, almost castle like in appearance, with doors that were almost two stories high.

As they stepped out of the carriage, a tall and slender woman with near silvery blonde hair came running down the steps to greet them. She gave Hermione a hug and kissed both of her cheeks. "Welcome to my home, Chateau Delacour," exclaimed Fleur. "I am so glad that you could come by to visit on your way back to England."

She then turned to others who were standing on the steps, a woman who looked to be maybe only ten years older than her, and another young woman who could have been her twin, perhaps an inch shorter and who appeared to be only a couple of years younger. The man was broad shouldered, had dark hair, and robes that were cut more like a business suit.

"Maman, Papa," said Fleur as she began the introductions, "this is my friend, Hermione Granger. She has been Harry's closest friend since before I met him." She then pointed to the younger witch, "This is my little sister, Gabrielle, although she has grown a little bit since you saw her last after the second task."

Hermione acknowledged everyone and introduced Scott to the Delacour family. "Scott Hubbard works for the Australian DMLE, he helped me find my parents and he is now helping me getting back to England."

"Come in, come in," beckoned Apolline, "leave your bags at the door and one of our elves will see that they are placed in your rooms."

As they entered the small castle, Hermione's eyes went wide as she tried to take it all in. Scott pulled a few small items out of one of his pockets, placed them on the floor and waved his wand over them. The formerly shrunken luggage returned to its normal size and then he followed the group into the parlour.

Monsieur Delacour welcomed them to his home with a wave of his hand. "Please, make yourselves at home. You will be safe while you stay here. This is one of the most secure homes in all of France. We will give you a quick tour and then show you to your rooms…"

* * *

 _AN: Again, my apologies for the way this was posted...any errors still found in this chapter are inspire of all of the helpful work from Dorothea Greengrass..._

 **AN: Another chapter - which I almost made two - but decided to give the answer as to who the mysterious woman in one section was when the aurors showed up at her family home later in this chapter.**

" **Life During Wartime" (c) 1979, Christopher Frantz, Tina Weymouth, Jerry Harrison, David Byrne,** **Fear of Music**

 **Once again, major thanks to Dorothea Greengrass for her editing and assistance helping with the story. This chapter is much better because of her direct input. And make sure you read her stories. They're great. Really.**


	17. Chapter 17 - Cross-eyed and Painless

**"Crosseyed And Painless"**

 **LDW-17**

 _Facts are simple and facts are straight_

 _Facts are lazy and facts are late_

 _Facts all come with points of view_

 _Facts don't do what I want them to_

 _Facts just twist the truth around_

 _Facts are living turned inside out_

 _Facts are getting the best of them_

 _Facts are nothing on the face of things_

 _Facts don't stain the furniture_

 _Facts go out and slam the door_

 _Facts are written all over your face_

 _Facts continue to change their shape_

* * *

LDW.17.1

* * *

 **19 August**

Team Omega returned to the safe house. Bushnell, Flanders and Scott were all right behind him as Middleton entered the old warehouse. "Get your ammunition restocked and go and clean up after that," he said to the three men. He knocked at the door of Barnes' office and walked in without waiting for permission.

Barnes was pacing in his office. He looked up at Middleton, an eyebrow raised, and asked, "So, how did it go?"

"Everything went like clockwork," said Middleton.

"Where's O'Brien? He didn't return with you."

Middleton looked around, his eyebrows creased. "I thought he had already returned; he left with the eldest daughter." He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "He was supposed to have brought her here already. Maybe he checked in with Jonas, and dropped the bint off with the other girls."

He then stuck his head out of the office and called out to Jonas,"Did O'Brien return yet?"

Jonas shook his head, "No, he hasn't returned, the twins are the only ones over in the holding room."

Middleton took another look at the watch on his wrist and cursed. "He should have been back here by now. We had no problems with our part, the mansion is destroyed. The oldest daughter was out back, his job should have been simple."

Jonas raised an eyebrow, "She is magical, she probably had her wand with her."

Middleton turned away and went back to face Barnes. As he approached his partner he growled, "O'Brien had his anti magic armour on, and he had his weapon, and he had the element of surprise." He paced back and forth for a minute before adding, "It's highly unlikely a young girl fresh out of Hogwarts could have overpowered his armour."

Barnes was sitting behind his desk, hands folded as he scowled at his associate. "So, I take it things didn't go quite as well as you planned."

* * *

LDW.17.2

* * *

Draco Malfoy sat on the edge of his bed at St. Mungo's. He moved his shoulder through its range of motion while rubbing the newly healed skin with his other hand.

The healer stepped into his room. "Mr. Malfoy, you are cleared to be discharged, however, there are a couple of men here to speak with you first."

Draco dropped his arm from his shoulder and frowned before he stood up. The Auror who had brought him to the magical hospital stepped in, followed by the director of the DMLE.

"To what do I owe this pleasure, gentlemen?" asked Draco, the frown returning to his face.

"We just need to ask you a few questions about what happened yesterday," stated the man who had rescued him.

Draco glared at the auror. "You were there, you saw what happened. I was speaking to a crowd and some fool stood up in the back and fired a curse at me." He looked down at the floor for a moment before looking back at the auror, swallowing hard. "Thank you for your assistance yesterday."

The auror turned and looked at Robards who remained quiet, but returned the look with a silent nod. Then the auror turned back to face Malfoy. "Could you tell us anything about what happened? Did you see who cast the curse at you?"

Draco scoffed, "If I had actually seen who cast the curse, I would not be here right now, as I would have been able to cast a shield or protected myself somehow, and then return fire." He narrowed his eyes. "You were there, didn't you see who cast the curse?"

The auror flinched slightly at Draco's words. "I was there, yes, but no, I didn't see who cast it. Just a flash of light and you falling to the ground."

"Then perhaps," snapped Draco, "you should have done your job as an auror and gone after the coward who attacked me and left me to deal with my injuries on my own."

* * *

LDW.17.3

* * *

 **Thursday, 20 August, 1998, London**

A man stood in the shadow of a tree in a park across from a row of houses. A young boy walked up to him.

"I did as you asked, sir," said the boy. "I've been keeping an eye on this house. It's very strange sir. I don't really recall seeing it before this summer. And no one comes in or out. But I'm sure there were broken windows there earlier this summer, but as you can see, all the windows appear fine."

The man handed the boy a twenty pound note. The boy looked at the note he held in his hand, pulled on its edges and quickly stuffed it into his pocket.

Then the man handed him a card with a number on it. "I'll give you more if you notice anything further. Just call this number, and either a woman will answer or just leave a message on the answerphone."

The boy looked at the card and then at the man. "Sure thing, sir!" He turned and ran off across the small park.

The man stood there looking at the building for a minute, then he spoke to himself. "So, 12 Grimmauld Place wasn't even seen by the locals until earlier this summer. Interesting." The man then walked away with long strides across the park, and down a side road.

* * *

LDW.17.4

* * *

 _I'm ready to leave_

 _I push the facts in front of me_

 _Facts lost - facts are never what they seem to be_

 _Nothing there! No information left of any kind_

 _Lifting my head_

 _Looking for danger signs_

 **20 August, 1998, Little Whinging**

Kreacher was still investigating properties so Harry had made breakfast for Daphne and himself. They sat down at the small kitchen table, eating their eggs and bacon, when Kreacher appeared and handed Harry a copy of the Daily Prophet.

"Here is the paper, Master Harry sir," said the house elf. "I will be getting back to searching the various Black properties now." Then the house elf disappeared once again.

Harry opened the paper and frowned. "It seems that your family made the front page. Right above Draco Malfoy being attacked in Diagon Alley, and…" he hesitated slightly before continuing, "and before a story on Cho Chang's father being killed. Apparently there was an attack on the Changs. Somebody had a busy day yesterday."

Daphne looked up. "May I have the paper?"

Harry hand it to her without a word.

She skimmed the articles and shuddered slightly as she tried to hold back tears.

Harry tilted his head. "Did you know the Changs? I didn't think they were part of the Sacred 28."

Daphne put the paper down on the table to the side of her plate. She took a deep breath and shook her head. "No, they're not of the Sacred 28. But I understand that their family is pure-blooded from a long line of magic users in China."

Harry could detect the irritation in her voice. He stared at her for a short while, trying to discern what was the cause of that reaction.

Daphne soon became aware of the eyes that were fixed on her and looked back at Harry.

"What? Did I do something wrong? Is there something on my face?" She lifted a napkin and went to wipe her mouth and cheeks.

"No," said Harry, "there is nothing on your face. But, what's with this tone with Cho Chang and her family?"

Daphne rolled her eyes at the question. "Cho was always a manipulative little witch. She had poor Diggory wrapped around her wand, and then, the way she played with you after he died. But that's not the real problem. It was her family."

Harry's brow was furrowed as he considered her words. "What about her family?"

Daphne sighed, looked away and then turned back to face him. "Her family was, or is, in the import business. My family has been established in the import business for countless generations. They have been trying to cut into my family's business for many years, since before the first war with He Who Must Not Be Named."

Harry shook his head. "He has a name, and it was Riddle, Tom Riddle. It won't curse or hex anybody to say it. People need to learn to say it, even if only to remind everyone that he was simply a half-blood. Not some damnable pure-blooded prodigy."

An awkward silence fell across the room.

Finally Harry spoke up, "So, what do you want to do today?"

Daphne snapped in reply. "Aren't you going to track down the bastards who killed my family?"

Harry took a deep breath. "One, I do not yet have a way to track them. Two, they don't even know I am back yet, nor that I am going to be looking for them, so I am still in a wait and see position. Point C, if you're going to be tagging along, we probably ought to figure out just what it is you can do to help, and not get either one of us hurt or killed."

Daphne's went wide. "You do realise that you changed from enumerating your points to categorising them with letters."

Harry smirked at her. "Just seeing if you were paying attention."

"So, we practice then?"

"As soon as I find a place where we can practice," said Harry.

"How will you do that and what do we do until then?"

Harry raised an eyebrow. This witch surely was eager to start her revenge. He called Kreacher to his side.

"Kreacher, are there any Black properties where Daphne and I can duel and prepare for fighting?'

"Kreacher will look and tell master."

* * *

LDW.17.5

* * *

 **DMLE headquarters**

One of the Aurors investigating the attack on Draco Malfoy was rubbing his chin and finally shook his head. He turned to his partner, the one who had brought the Malfoy heir to St. Mungo's.

"This spell residue, it makes no sense, I can't figure out what spell it might have been."

The other Auror shrugged, and replied, "Then let's ask one of the Unspeakables, those guys from the Department of Mysteries know more about spell identification than we do."

A few minutes later, one of the grey robed wizards was reviewing the information that had been gathered by the healers at St. Mungo's, in addition to what information the Aurors had obtained. He waved his wand in a few intricate patterns and spoke very quietly, so much so that the Aurors could not hear what was being spoken. He made a few faces as he considered what his detection spell was telling him. He turned to face the Aurors, "This was a foreign spell, not taught here in England, or in Europe. That much I can tell you. Having the wand that cast the spell would help us better identify what was cast at the young man. It was more than a simple blasting hex. He is lucky that he did not have any more severe injuries."

The auror who brought Malfoy to the magical hospital narrowed his eyes. "How do you know so much about what happened?"

The Unspeakable laughed slightly. "I've already reviewed your report, and I've also reviewed the report from the healers. Besides, there are certain unusual characteristics left behind by the spell residue on Mister Malfoy's robes."

Before the Aurors could ask him anything further, the unspeakable had disappeared.

"Well how are we going to find that bloody wand?" asked the older of the Aurors.

"Damned if I know," replied the other.

* * *

LDW.17.6

* * *

Daphne looked back at Harry. "So, how long before your grumpy little house elf returns with the information?"

"I have no idea," replied Harry with a grin as he leaned back in his chair. "Since we're waiting, how about we go for a walk, tour my old neighbourhood?"

Daphne's initial reaction was a frown. Harry rubbed his chin, and then came up with another idea. "While we're waiting for Kreacher to return, I have another thought. We can go to a secluded area where we can begin your training."

Daphne actually managed a slight smile in return.

"If you have your wand, just hold on to my arm and I will apparate us to the place," he added.

Once she grabbed onto his elbow, she felt a spin as Harry apparated them away. The feeling of nausea abated quickly and Daphne looked around, seeing a wooded area, with a nearby stream and several large rocks and a large hill.

"Just where exactly are we?" she asked.

"Welcome, Miss Greengrass, to the Forest of Dean." Harry made a sweeping motion with his hand and gave her a slight bow.

Daphne walked around in a small circle, taking in their surroundings. "And we're all alone here, there's no one around at all?"

Harry shrugged his shoulders. "Actually, I am pretty sure there is no one anywhere near here. Hermione and I spent some time here last year, while we were avoiding the Death Eaters and the Snatchers. She knew of this place from when she was young, her family would come here for vacations."

"So, Muggles could show up anytime?"

"Perhaps," said Harry, who then waved his wand in a circle as he muttered something that Daphne couldn't make out. "However, there are no muggles, or witches or wizards anywhere nearby at this time."

"So, what will you teach me first?" came the excited question from Daphne.

Harry waved a finger in front of her, "Not so fast, young lady. First, I need to ascertain just what skills you have."

Daphne nodded in anticipation.

"To start, if you were being attacked, and you had no wand, how would you defend yourself?" he asked.

Daphne's eyes narrowed as she tried to understand where these questions were leading. However, the green-eyed young man in front of her was just standing still, awaiting her answer.

"I suppose I could hide behind a tree or those rocks," she offered.

Harry tilted his head, "A possible idea, but lets see how well that would work. I'll start with my modified blasting hex." Then with a quick flick of his wrist a red light shot out from his wand, and the tree about ten meters away from where she was standing had lost ten feet of its trunk and came crashing down. Harry sent a slight gust of wind to make it fall away from were Daphne was standing.

Daphne was embarrassed to realise she had let out a slight scream as the middle of the tree exploded.

"How about that rock over there?" asked Harry as he pointed with his wand to a large rock about 1.5 meters in diameter, covered with lichen.

Before Daphne could say anything else, another jet of red light smashed into the rock, and pebbles and dust sprayed out away from the impact of Harry's spell as he simply pulverised the large rock.

Daphne's hand flew up to her mouth and covered it.

"Now, not every wizard or witch is going to have a blasting hex that powerful, but you don't want to find out too late that they do. And certain Muggle weapons can easily be that powerful," he added. "Do you really want to do this?"

A silent nodding of her head indicated to Harry that she wanted to continue.

Harry shook his head slightly and closed his eyes. A moment later he asked her of she could cast a shield spell.

"Of course I can," she replied, trying to make herself feel strong and brave.

"Then cast a shield in front of that other rock that is still there," commanded Harry.

Daphne nodded slightly, moved a little closer and cast her shield spell in front of the rock.

Harry returned the nod, acknowledging her skill in casting the shield charm in front of another object. Then he smirked as he cast his blasting hex, which shattered her shield and the rock behind it was also pulverised.

Daphne screamed in surprise, and nearly dropped her wand from the shockwave sent back at her when her shield spell was disrupted so violently.

Harry strode over to her and glared at her slightly.

"You are not prepared for this fight," he scoffed.

"Then teach me," pleaded Daphne.

Harry shook his head, "No. Why should I? You'll just get yourself killed, or worse. I don't need anymore lives on my hands or conscience at this time."

Daphne fought back the tears that were forming in response to being yelled at. She started to turn red with anger at the Boy Who Lived, who seemed to be toying with her and dismissing her.

She whipped her wand out and started to cast a series of hexes and curses at the dark haired wizard who was walking away.

Harry turned around quicker than she expected, and he started blocking and shielding every one of her spells. He noted that the lethality of her spells seemed to be growing as she was becoming more angry as her voice was now shouting the spells as she cast them in rapid succession.

For his part, Harry was surprised that it took her over 5 minutes for Daphne to develop any signs of magical exhaustion. A couple of minutes later, and many dozens of spells having been blocked or batted aside, Daphne finally collapsed on the ground, tears streaming down her face.

Harry walked over to where she was and squatted in front of her.

Using her sleeve she wiped the tears off of her face.

"Your power is actually impressive," he stated calmly. "I think I can work with that. Your passion, now, that will either get you killed or cause untold harm for any who cross you."

Daphne narrowed her eyes, "What? Like you?"

Harry actually allowed a smile to come across his face, "Merlin, no, at least I hope not."

He offered her his hand and pulled her back to stand in front of him. He gave her a minute to collect herself and then he started with his first lesson.

"Let's start with teaching you a proper shield, not the shite we learned at Hogwarts. Then I'll teach you how to make your attacks more on target, harder to block or shield, and overall how to be more effective and deadly."

Daphne's jaw dropped for a moment. "You will help me?"

Harry simply shrugged before replying. "It will probably get you killed, and maybe even kill me, but, yeah, I will. So get off your arse and lets get to work."

"I am already standing, you git. You _did_ help me get back up," she snarled.

"And don't mouth off to your teacher," commanded Harry.

They spent the next several hours reviewing spells, with Harry teaching her how to make the spells she knew stronger, or even teaching her spells they never taught at Hogwarts.

When they decided to take a break, Daphne decided to ask about the elf. "We haven't seen your little helper at all. How long does it take for that creature to check out your properties."

"He is not a creature, his name is Kreacher," corrected Harry. "He'll let us know what he found when he is ready to, and not a moment sooner. In the mean time, we can head back to Little Whinging, and take a walk through the village there, maybe even find a place to eat." He offered her his arm and they once again Apparated together back into Muggle civilisation.

After a brief stroll down the main street, they found a small pub that offered lunch so they went inside. Once they placed their order, Harry silently cast charms around their table so that they would not be overheard.

Daphne looked around the pub and then back at Harry. "Aren't you worried someone will recognise you?"

Harry laughed slightly, "Worried? No, not really. My relatives kept me locked up or doing work the rest of the time. And once I started at Hogwarts I had been around so little, they all probably thought I either got killed or ended up in prison - that is if they believed the crap my uncle ever said about me."

Daphne stopped herself from gasping. "They sound like horrible people."

Harry nodded slightly. "Yeah, that about sums them up. Well, except for my cousin, maybe. I think he finally started to grow a brain - after the Dementor attack."

Daphne was trying to avoid gaping like a fish. "Wait, you _really were_ attacked by Dementors? Here?"

Harry took a deep breath and then he answered her. "Yeah, don't tell me any of you in Slytherin actually believed anything the pink toad said? And yes, it _was_ her who sent them after me."

"I suppose you chased them off with a Patronus," she quipped.

"Uh, yeah," stated Harry. "It was only two of them. Not like the hundred or so I sent away at the end of third year."

Daphne closed her mouth after opening it in surprise to what she had just heard. "Malfoy said that story was a lie, just like all of the other stories about you." Daphne eyed him closely, looking for any sort of sign that would suggest if he was going to answer her truthfully.

"I never really talked about what happened at school that much with anyone," Harry stated plainly. "I mean, it's not like I really had many friends outside of Ron and Hermione, until I got to know Neville and Luna better. But they already knew those stories."

Daphne raised an eyebrow. "So, then, care to spill which stories are true?"

Harry sighed before replying. "Sure why not. I can summarise my years for you, and if you need more information, then go ahead and ask. And you can tell me any other stories you heard about me that I may not cover."

Daphne smiled, "Sounds good to me."

Harry coughed slightly and then started recounting his experience each year at Hogwarts. "So, you remember what Dumbledore said about the third floor corridor at the opening feast our first year?"

"Something about a painful death," she said with a shake of her head.

"Well, Quirrel, the stuttering fool of a DADA professor, who was possessed by Voldemort, well, by Riddle. Dumbledore, in his infinite wisdom, or lack there of, thought it would be a great idea to try and flush Tom out by hiding the Philosopher's stone - yes, THAT Philosopher's Stone, made by Nicholas Flamel, in the school. There were traps of course, traps that were easy enough for three first years to get past. I ended up fighting Quirrel, who died when he tried to grab me, and saved the stone from being taken by Tom Riddle."

Daphne stopped herself from making a comment doubting what Harry had just told her, then muttered something about a barmy old goat herder.

"Second year was the Heir of Slytherin fiasco. Turns out that your friend Draco's dad hid a dangerous artefact in Ginny Weasley's books before school started. She was possessed by the shade of Riddle, yes, he was back, again. I managed to get into the Chamber of Secrets because I am a parseltongue, and fought and defeated a sixty foot long basilisk, nearly died, but what saved by Fawkes, that is Dumbledore's phoenix. And I dispatched Riddle's shade once again." Harry left out the information about the Horcrux, as he felt that was not really needed.

Seeing the look of horror in her eyes, Harry smiled slightly and continued his story. "Third year, that was the year with all of the Dementors looking for Sirius Black, who, by the way, did not betray my parents, and was illegally incarcerated. He broke out of Azkaban because he learned where the real betrayer was, Peter Pettigrew, who was alive, living as a rat, in his Animagus form. So, Hermione and I saved Sirius, and Buckbeak, the Hippogriff, and in doing so I had to drive off over a hundred of those Dementors. Oh, Sirius Black was my godfather, but because he was unjustly wanted by the ministry he couldn't take me in and get me out of living with my aunt and uncle."

"And fourth year was the tournament," added Daphne.

"Which I never wanted any part of," continued Harry. "Put up with all of the grief from everyone, and then the cup was turned into a Portkey by Barty Crouch Jr, who was not dead, but was impersonating Mad Eye Moody all year, and Dumbledore never suspected." He snorted. "The cup-Portkey took Cedric and me to a graveyard, where Ced was killed, and a ritual was performed to bring back Riddle into bodily form. A bunch of Death Eaters showed up, I survived a duel with old snake face, grabbed Cedric's body, and the cup, and Portkeyed back to Hogwarts. And then I was called a liar by Fudge, that arse."

"Fifth year was the year of the pink toad and her terrorism of students and the school in general." He then showed her the back of his hand, and Daphne could see the scar that spelled out "I shall not tell lies."

"Voldemort, um, Riddle, was trying to get a prophecy about the two of us from the Department of Mysteries," said Harry. "Eventually he tricked me into going there, making me think I needed to rescue my godfather, who wasn't even there. A small group joined me as we flew there, fought a bunch of Death Eaters. Bellatrix Lestrange sent my godfather through The Veil, then Riddle tried to possess me, and he fought Dumbledore in the Ministry atrium and even Fudge had to finally believe he was back."

"Um, wow," whispered Daphne. After a pause she then asked, "And your adventures in sixth year?"

"Dumbledore started trying to teach me about Riddle, about what might be needed to be able to finally beat him. Draco took the Dark Mark and was ordered to kill Dumbledore. He couldn't do it, so Snape did. But nobody else knew that Dumbledore had a curse and he was about to die anyway. So, Snape killed the headmaster so Draco wouldn't have to. After that, the war started," finished Harry.

"And you ran away," added Daphne.

Harry glared at the witch sitting across from him. "I was given a mission by Dumbledore, there were things that needed to be done so that I would be able to defeat Riddle. Besides, he had taken over the ministry and had everyone of his minions looking for me."

Daphne did not apologise for her comment, then said, "So you showed up in May, rallied the school, faked your death and finally killed the Dark Lord."

"Actually, I faked nothing, Riddle _did_ kill me," stated Harry softly. "Neville managed to kill Nagini, the possessed snake familiar and that actually was part of what was needed to finally put Riddle down for good."

"There has to be more to this story," observed Daphne.

"That's all I'm telling anyone," said Harry.

Daphne was finishing the food on her plate by the time Harry had finished telling his story. "So, even with all that, you never once showed the power to do what you did today at the Forest of Dean, or wherever that was."

Harry wagged his eyebrows at her, "That, my dear Daphne, is not a story from Hogwarts, and it is not something we are going to discuss today."

Daphne gave a slight pout, sat up straighter as she asked another question. "Would you care to tell me more about the comment about the stairs at your house that you made yesterday?"

Harry ran a hand through his mess of hair on his head, took a deep breath before answering her. "Sure, what the hell, lets have no secrets. But first, you tell me, did you really freeze another students bits off? Is that how you earned your nickname? And what about all those rumours about how the male Slytherin students treat the female students?"

It was Daphne's turn to narrow her eyes and glare at her companion for the meal. "What rumours about behaviour in the Slytherin house? And I may or may not have caused temporary incapacitation of a male student for being too forward and more than a little inappropriate. And if the rumours you are alluding to are what I think they are, then yes, that one action led to the oh so pleasant nickname I have been saddled with but it also led to the creepy older boys from leaving me alone. And I will not agree to answer any questions about what happens in the Slytherin dorm."

"By the way, nice furniture you have there in the common room, although I do think that whoever did the decorating did go a little heavy handed with the green," stated Harry.

Once again Daphne was surprised by Harry's comments. "How would you ever know what our common room looks like?"

"I can neither confirm nor deny that I have any firsthand knowledge of your dorm, or rather, your common room," stated Harry. "Although it is a little dark. It could stand to have a little better lighting, even if it is in the dungeons."

Daphne leaned back and folded her arms across her chest. "Next thing I know, you'll be telling me you brewed Polyjuice potion as second years and snuck into our common room."

Harry simply grinned even broader at the blonde Slytherin.

"You did not!" exclaimed Daphne.

"Well, actually no, I didn't," conceded Harry.

"Don't lie to me!" said Daphne, trying to sound threatening.

"Fine, fine," said Harry, "it was Hermione who brewed the Polyjuice potion when we were second years."

Daphne wanted to scream, but simply muttered and hid her face in her hands.

* * *

LDW.17.7

* * *

 **Friday, 21 August, 1998**

The Aurors investigating the death of Mr. Chang were gathering evidence from the room where he was found murdered. It was noted that there was residue of several blasting curses around the room.

The lead Auror shook his head. "I see nothing else other than spells were cast back and forth, and then some Muggle coward decided to end it by shooting the man in the head."

The second Auror nodded, then added, "I'd love to know what kind of spells were being fired. It seems like there was a whole lot of different things going on. What was he doing before the Muggle terrorist finally shot him?"

The senior Auror went over to Mr. Chang's desk. On top of the desk was a box, which included, among many other small objects, Mr. Chang's wand. He carefully picked it up and examined it. "I suppose that we could at least find out what he cast."

"So, we'll have to bering it back to the department to check it over," said the Junior Auror.

"That is correct," said the Lead Auror, as he handed the ebony wand with red striations to his partner. "Bring this back to the department, and have the survey team look into it."

"Why can't we just do it here?" asked the younger Auror.

"This is a high enough profile case," stated his superior. "We will do it all by the book. No sense in letting the cowards who attacked this man off on any sort of technicality if they ever get caught and brought in."

* * *

LDW.17.8

* * *

One of the members of Delta Team carried a tray of food, opened the door to the room where the two young hostages were being held, and placed it on the one table in the room.

The two young women just glared at the man.

"Oh, we'll have none of that," said the man. "And, in case you care, you ladies almost had a playmate. One of your little friends from school was going to be brought here, but she never made it out of her home."

Hestia and Flora looked at each other before turning back to their captor. "Who? Who did you bastards kill while you were trying to kidnap her?"

"You, young lady, should hold your tongue," calmly replied the man who had just brought their food. "Some of us bastards are keeping the other bastards away, so that you very much, you're not being treated too horribly."

Flora rolled her eyes at her sister, then spoke to the one who brought their food. "Oh, most kind and genteel sir, if you could but only share with us of whom you were speaking, and pray tell us what has befallen the young lass.

"Greenbriar or something like that," replied the man. As he was about to walk away he tossed them a couple of newspapers. "The crosswords are in there, that might give you something to do, if your kind even knows how to do a crossword puzzle."

Flora looked at her sister, "Do you think he meant the Greengrasses? They attacked them? They were going to kidnap Astoria?"

"Or Daphne," replied Hestia. She wrapped her arms around herself as she added, "I don't want to think what they did to that family."

* * *

LDW.17.9

* * *

Friday morning Harry and Daphne arrived for breakfast at about the same time. Daphne was hesitant to say anything to Harry at first, feeling a little awkward after learning so much about him the day before, and that after her fighting just to be able to train with him.

Harry sat down, oblivious to the concerns of his housemate, and started to dig into the plate of eggs and bacon that Kreacher had set before him.

Daphne shook her head slightly, and before starting to eat her fruit which the house elf had prepared for her, she spoke up. "What did you find for Harry as far as Black family homes? Is there a place we can safely train?"

Kreacher smiled at the blonde witch who was speaking to him so politely. "There are several houses, many are not in very good shape. The old manor house may be the most useful. It hasn't been used in many many years. I could not find any dark magic, or rather much dark magic, other than a few objects which I can have delivered to Gringotts for safe keeping."

Harry looked up and wiped his mouth with a napkin. "Kreacher, would it be possible to ask the goblins if they could research those items? On second thought, I probably ought to speak with the goblins myself."

Soon they finished their meal and Harry said, "Well, let's head to Gringotts."

"I could use getting some money," stated Daphne with a nod.

Harry hesitated a moment and then added, "But we'll wait for Kreacher to arrange for a safe place for us to travel to, so we can avoid any of the usual crowds, and keep your survival and my return a mystery for now. No sense announcing to everyone that we're both around by waltzing down Diagon Alley when you're presumed dead and I'm presumed missing."

"You could have done well in Slytherin," commented Daphne, to which Harry responded with a smirk.

A few minutes later, Kreacher brought them via house elf Apparation to a waiting room off of the main lobby at Gringotts. A goblin greeted them with a grunt. "Wait here while I inform your account manager that you have arrived."

* * *

LDW.17.10

* * *

That same afternoon there was a man slowing walking down the streets in Little Whinging. He would occasionally stop in some of the shops, ask the shop owners side questions and then move on his way. He made his way from the shops in the village to the residential areas. He passed an old playground where several small children were at play, and made his way towards Privet Drive.

* * *

LDW.17.11

* * *

Harry and Daphne were in a small room that held a centre table as well as a small desk to one side. After about fifteen minutes of waiting in silence, a side door opened and an older goblin walked in.

"Greetings, Lord Potter-Black," stated the goblin. Turning to Daphne he added, "And greetings Lady Greengrass, my condolences on your loss."

The two young humans nodded and replied in greeting. The goblin then asked, "And what can Gringotts do for either of you today?"

Daphne spoke up first, "I simply need to be able to retrieve some galleons from my vault. I presume that I now control all of the Greengrass vaults."

The goblin nodded, "You are, Lady Greengrass. There is the family vault, your trust vault, your sister's trust vault, and then there is the separate vault for the family business."

"Please combine my sister's trust vault with my own," stated Daphne. "I will continue to use that vault for my personal needs. And I will need to arrange for hiring new workers for Greengrass Imports."

The goblin acknowledged her requests. "The business is currently closed temporarily to allow the family and the workers a brief time to grieve."

"As well it should," agreed Daphne.

Harry then interjected, "Can Gringotts convert any of Lady Greengrass' galleons into Muggle currency?"

"That can be done, for our usual fee, of course," replied the goblin.

Daphne gave a questioning look to Harry, who shrugged as he replied, "If we are going to keep a low profile for a while in the magical world, we will need to be spending time in the Muggle world. Having money that actually works there will help."

Daphne nodded in understanding.

Harry then spoke to the goblin. "Can Gringotts perform a service of evaluating various items retrieved from one of my properties?"

"What sort of items?" queried the goblin.

"Potentially dark or cursed items," stated Harry.

"There is the usual hundred galleon fee for initial inspection of an item, and depending on what kind of work needs to be done by the curse breakers, the fee will increase from there," explained the goblin.

"I will have my house elf present you with various items," said Harry. He rubbed his chin and added, "How much extra to have my house elf bring a team of curse breakers to the home, and therefor avoid transporting the potentially dangerous items?"

Once they had concluded their business and obtained both wizard and Muggle money from the goblins, Harry and Daphne had Kreacher bring them back to Little Whinging. They walked past the playground where Harry had encountered the Dementors. Daphne noticed the slight shudder that Harry had as they went past the park on Magnolia Crescent. Daphne paused slightly and took Harry's hand, surprising the wizard.

"Is this where you were attacked by the Dementors?" she asked.

Harry went to withdraw his hand from Daphne's, but she refused to let go. Initially he started to glare at the young witch, then he stared at her hand and then he looked back up into her eyes. Harry raised an eyebrow in surprise as he noticed the look of concern on her face. He relaxed his arm and let her hold onto his hand. His shoulders slumped and he let out a sigh, "Yes, it was here that my cousin and I encountered the two Dementors. Initially I lost my wand when my cousin hit me, but I managed to get it back, and thinking about Ron and Hermione helped me get the strength to cast the Patronus charm."

Daphne smiled at him, but still did not let go of his hand. "Can you show me your Patronus? Well, not here, in the middle of a Muggle park, of course, but sometime? Could you maybe even teach me?"

Harry gave her a crooked smile. "Of course I can show you, at another time, and yes I can teach you. I taught a number of students how to cast the charm. It is quite useful. You can use a Patronus as a messenger, not just as a defence against Dementors or even Lethifolds."

"So, the stories about your teaching everyone but Slytherins Defence Against The Dark Arts are true, too, then," she said.

"Well, considering the Inquisitorial Squad was mostly made up of Slytherins, it would have been hard to have you join us for Dumbledore's Army," he said continuing to smile.

"One, I was not a member of those blasted squads, and two, yes I did hear about your little rebellion group, although I did hear it was simply a study group and not this great rebellion as the pink toad had tried to make it out to be." Daphne still hadn't let go of Harry's hand as she started to walk along the sidewalk. "So, is there somewhere good to get something to eat near here?"

"You mean, fancier than the pub we went to before? Probably," said Harry. Harry started to lead her towards another nearby shopping district. Soon they found a small Italian restaurant and made their way inside. Once they were seated, they were grateful to have made their way inside as it had started to rain.

* * *

LDW.17.12

* * *

Making his way around the neighbourhood, the mysterious man in the dark suit eventually walked back towards Privet Drive. He had not seen any sign of anyone coming and going from the house at number 4, despite the fact the yard looked well maintained. When it started to rain, he moved across the street under the shelter of a large elm tree. The slight rain began to pour even harder; the man cursed the weather, before making his way to a nearby street where he slipped into a grey sports car, and drove off.

Once Harry and Daphne had finished dinner, it was still raining outside. They slipped into a nearby alley, and then Harry apparated them both into the garage next to the house at 4 Privet Drive. The two then dashed through the rain into the back door of the house.

* * *

LDW.17.13

* * *

 **Saturday, 22 August, 1988**

Cho Chang walked through her family home. She was relieved that the Aurors investigating the death of her father had finally left. She knew that they would not be able to find the weapons that killed him, or had apparently killed him. She smirked as she considered how well she had fooled the DMLE. Even if she had sent them after the very group she was financing and controlling, she was sure that the DMLE would not be able to find them.

"Time for the next step in my plan for gaining power and increasing my fortune," she said out loud to herself. She then took some Floo Powder, tossed into her fire place, and as the flames turned green she called out, "Diagon Alley."

Cho made her way out of the Leaky Cauldron and soon arrived at Gringotts. She walked up to one of the tellers and demanded that she be able to meet with an account manager. The teller grunted in reply, and called over another goblin. After whispering harshly in Gobbledygook the other goblin walked away quickly. A few minutes later the second goblin returned and indicated for Miss Chang to follow him. She was led to a large chamber and told to sit at one end of a stone table. After waiting nearly thirty minutes, and growing quite impatient, a goblin entered with a stack of parchment.

"How may Gringotts Bank help you today, Miss Chang?" asked the goblin as it headed towards the table. The goblin then sat himself down at the far end of the long table, placing the papers to his side. "We are saddened to hear of the passing of your father, and any documents you may need in regards to the estate and the family business we have here for your perusal."

"I'm sure that everything that you have for my family's business is in order," acknowledged Cho. "However, as tragedy has affected several families on the day my father was taken from me, I have come to speak to you about some of those businesses. It is a shame that a prominent family such as the Greengrasses should be taken from us. Their family business is important to so much of the wizarding society. I am prepared to take over control of there holdings, as I am quite sure from what I knew of my friends who are lost that there is no surviving Greengrass. Their import business is important to the general magical economy, and in the wake of the recent war we all suffered through, we cannot afford to have such a major set back."

The goblin looked at the papers to his side and then back at the woman sitting across from him. "I am afraid, Miss Chang, that there is no need to fear for the Greengrass family import business. The business is still in capable hands and there will apparently be no interruption in the services and goods which they supply."

Cho could not believe what she was hearing. She knew how some of these businesses were financially backed by the goblin banking system, and it would have been unlikely that either of the Greengrass daughters had a will in place to donate their control of the family company to anyone. In that case the goblins would simply give control to the first bidder who offered a price for the business that would guarantee at least a small profit for the goblins.

"Surely, you must be mistaken, the family was wiped out by those terrorists who took my father from me," protested Cho. "I can and will gladly pay whatever price is needed to take ownership of those businesses. My family is also in the import business, who else would be better situated than myself for taking control of such a leaderless company?"

The goblin snarled slightly before collecting the parchments from the table. "If you are not here to review your family business and accounts, then I am afraid our business here is finished."

Before Cho could protest, the goblin had marched out of the small side door, leaving her alone in the large room.

"Bloody hell," she muttered. "Now I'll need to go through the ministry to gain control of the Greengrass companies."

As she made her way out of the bank, she was walking swiftly. In her anger she was not paying attention to where she was going and nearly knocked over a young man entering the bank..

Draco noticed the Asian witch heading out of the bank, but barely had time to step out of her way. He recalled reading about the death of her father on the same day that he himself was attacked. As the two collided, Draco reached out and grasped her shoulder to steady her and prevent her from falling.

"There now, Miss Chang. My apologies for bumping into you. And may I offer my sincere condolences on the loss of your father," Draco said, adding a formal bow to his words. "I am sorry to hear of your loss. It was not a good day for many families. This continued loss of magical lives and senseless attacks is only causing more distress for our society. I am sure you know that all too well."

Cho steadied herself as Draco prevented her from falling. As she listened to his formal declaration of condolences, she wiped a few tears from her eyes, "Thank you, Draco, it has been a very difficult week."

Draco nodded as he noticed how sad she appeared. "Difficulty with the goblins, I take it?"

Inwardly Cho smirked, outwardly, she gave a brave smile. "You wouldn't believe the difficulty I am having with them in the midst of this tragedy."

"I could go have some words with them, on your behalf," offered Draco. "But then again, my family name probably holds no sway whatsoever behind these doors."

Cho shook her head as she smiled, "I would dare say it would not, Mister Malfoy."

"Please, call me Draco," he stated. "Perhaps a little time to relax and avoid the pressing cares of our world may be of help? Dinner, perhaps, with me, tonight?"

Cho smiled as she replied, "Why, that sounds lovely. What time?"

Th two then made plans to meet up later that evening at a small restaurant in Hogsmeade, where there would be less prying eyes.

* * *

LDW.17.14

* * *

 _The island of doubt_

 _It's like the taste of medicine_

 _Working by hindsight_

 _Got the message from the oxygen_

 _Making a list_

 _Find the cost of opportunity_

 _Doing it right_

 _Facts are useless in emergencies_

 _The feeling returns_

 _Whenever we close our eyes_

 _Lifting my head_

 _Looking around inside_

 **Afternoon, 22 August, 1988**

Hermione and Scott made their way from the train station after taking the Chunnel train, and had hailed a taxi to take them to the one place Hermione figured that she could easily find her best friend. The taxi let them out next to a park, and she led Scott down the road towards 12 Grimmauld place. She wondered if she would have a problem finding it, or if Scott would need to be told the secret, but she recalled how the Fidelius must have been broken.

Hermione walked up the stone steps and knocked on the door. There was no answer, so tried the door knob. The door easily opened and she stepped into the entryway. There were signs of an attack: broken items, even a large cracked cooking pot near the bottom of the stairs. The residual magic of what have been a heated battles was still lingering. Hermione was startled to notice this and took a closer look: there were many bullet holes in the walls and in the ceiling.

"That explains the rubble," she muttered as she stepped over some debris and towards the stairs.

Hermione called out to Harry, and then for Kreacher. Would the crazed and bigoted house elf respond to her? She waited with baited breath. Of course, he didn't turn up. She scanned the house for a sign of Harry. After searching all the rooms, she was sure that there was no sign of Harry, even all of his clothes were gone. She felt as though no one had lived here for several weeks, or longer. Her shoulders slumped, and her face scrunched up.

"Now how am I going to find him?" she cried out.

Scott stepped up behind her and engulfed her in a hug.

"He's gone, I have no idea where he went, or what happened to him," she sobbed. "Maybe I need to ask Kingsley," she added softly.

"It will be OK, Hermione," whispered Scott as he tried to comfort her. "Lets go get a hotel room, and tomorrow, we can start your search for this Harry person."

Hermione turned back into his embrace. "Thank you, Scott, you have been such an amazing help. Thanks for everything." She then looked up into his eyes as she planted a soft kiss on his lips.

Scott blushed slightly. "Let's go find a room, and we'll get you something to eat, and let you rest. We can figure things out tomorrow."

Standing inside the foyer, Hermione cast a locking charm on the door, then she side along Apparated the two of them to Diagon Alley. Stepping out into Muggle London they made their way to a hotel where Scott made arrangements for them to check into a suite.

A child stepped out from behind a tree and stared at the house he was told to keep an eye on. He ran to a nearby phone booth, took out his card, and dialled a number. "Yes, two people entered the house. I watched it for over an hour. No one ever came out. That place is a mess, there is nothing for them to be doing in there. No, the man didn't have glasses or dark hair."

 _I'm still waiting...I'm still waiting...I'm still waiting..._

 _I'm still waiting...I'm still waiting...I'm still waiting..._

 _I'm still waiting...I'm still waiting..._

 _The feeling returns_

 _Whenever we close our eyes_

 _Lifting my head_

 _Looking around inside_

* * *

LDW

* * *

" **Cross-eyed and Painless" (c) 1980 - Christopher Frantz, Tina Weymouth, Jerry Harrison, David Byrne, Talking Heads, "Remain In Light"**

* * *

LDW

* * *

 **AN:** The story continues to move along. Obviously, if you are reading this, you are not one of the readers who flamed me about earlier chapters involving the British Government and MI-6. Finally getting to the parts of the story I originally envisioned with he rest being build up…well, okay, some of the build up was part of the original vision for this story - but now there has been a lot more details thrown in.

 **Many many thanks** to _Dorothea Greengrass_ and her time and efforts in editing this chapter. In honour of all her hard work for me, I will root for Germany in the World Cup...


	18. Chapter 18 - Girlfriend is Better

**LDW - 18**

 **"Girlfriend Is Better"**

 _I... Who took the money?_

 _Who took the money away?_

 _I... It's always showtime_

 _Here at the edge of the stage_

 _I, I, I, wake up and wonder_

 _What was the place, what was the name?_

 _We wanna wait, but here we go again_

 _I... takes over slowly_

 _But doesn't last very long_

 _I... no need to worry_

 _Everything's under control_

 _O - U - T but no hard feelings_

 _What do you know? Take you away_

 _We're being taken for a ride again_

 _I got a girlfriend that's better than that_

 _She has the smoke in her eyes_

 _She's coming up, going right through my heart_

 _She's gonna give me surprise_

 _I think it's right, Better than this_

 _I think you can if you like_

 _I got a girlfriend with bows in her hair_

 _And nothing is better than that (is it?)_

 _..._

 _Somebody calls you but you cannot hear_

 _Get closer to be far away_

 _Only one look and that's all that it takes_

 _Maybe that's all that we need_

 _All that it takes, I'll bet it's right_

 _All it takes, if it's right_

 _I got a girlfriend that's better than that_

 _And she goes wherever she likes (there she goes)_

 _..._

 _I got a girlfriend that's better than that_

 _Now everyone's getting involved_

 _She's moving up going right through my heart_

 _We might not ever get caught_

 _Going right through (try to stay cool) going through, staying cool_

 _I got a girlfriend she's better than that_

 _And nothing is better than you_

 _I got a girlfriend that's better than this_

 _But you don't remember at all_

 _As we get older and stop making sense_

 _You won't find her waiting long_

 _Stop making sense, stop making sense...stop making sense, making sense_

 _I got a girlfriend she's better than that_

 _And nothing is better than this_

 _(Is it?)_

 _._

* * *

LDW 18-1

* * *

.

 **Sunday 23 August, 1998**

Loire Valley, France

The convoy of Land Rovers stopped on the outside of the area of the chateau. The men got out of the vehicles that parked along the side of the road.

William Jonas led the five muggles, who were all armed with Diemaco C7 Assault Rifles, finding them much more useful than the SA80 Assault Rifles which was the standard equipment for many British forces. Jonas waved for them to stop as he prepared his anti-magical-ward to be launched at the area surrounding the nearby estate. The first mortar was launched in the air, and the wards surrounding the property glowed orange momentarily and then they collapsed with a thunderous boom. Immediately he launched another mortar, which exploded in the air near the chateau, sending out a wave of yellow light.

"There, now they won't be able to apparate away!" Jonas looked at his men. "You better be ready, this is it. We won't have a repeat of the attacks at the Longbottom or Abbot estates."

The men all made their way across the road and down the path. Their weapons were at their shoulders, and all had magic piercing bullets.

Marsden, the lead muggle, made his way down the centre of the road. He signalled for the others to spread out.

Jensen moved to his left and moaned. "Wish we could just drive right up in those transports, it would be a lot quicker than running up to meet them."

To his side, Berry jeered at him. "You know the vehicles have no protection against magical attacks. At least this special armour we have can deflect most magical spells."

Burton and Ashford had moved out to Marsden's right side, while Jonas kept pace with his wand out, staying right behind Marsden. "No sense in being the lead target," he said to himself as they made their way closer to the chateau.

As they arrived within a couple of hundred yards of the chateau, the group paused and Jonas summoned a trunk of gear from one of the trucks. Jensen opened the large box and set up the grenade launcher. As he put it together, he said loudly, "They do know something is about to go down, you understand that, right?"

Jonas snapped at him. "Just get that thing together and take down the fancy house! Of course they know we are here, tearing apart their wards was more than a simple knock on the door. But don't worry, they will have no defence against this attack, and they have nowhere to run."

Jensen muttered again, then he aimed the grenade launcher at the main entrance of the house, and pulled the trigger. The explosion took down a large section of the front of the old house.

"Be prepared for their retaliation," called out Jonas.

Jensen dropped the grenade launcher and shouldered his rifle. The five muggles started to make their way towards the house again, walking slowly, staying alert for the first sign of retaliation.

Suddenly two large balls of fire came shooting out from the midst of the cloud of dust and rubble. Jonas put up a large magical shield and jumped behind a large boulder. The five muggles, safe in the assumption that this was a purely magical attack, and their armour would protect them, did nothing more than trying to jump to the ground. The moment the fireballs reached them, however, both Jensen and Ashford were engulfed by a ball of flame. Ashford fell to the ground screaming in pain, pulled the trigger on his rifle in his deathly agony, and a rain of bullets shot out. Burton was hit by several bullets from behind and collapsed to the ground. Blood pooled around his body.

"Shite, this is all going pear shaped," called out Berry. He sprang up to retreat.

"Stand your ground," ordered Jonas. He cast a series of spells towards the midst of the dust and rubble, which caused another section of the house to collapse. "That ought to slow them down," he said. He amplified his voice. "You will all die now, there is no escape for any of you!" The anger in his voice was palpable. He sprang up and ran forward, casting more spells at the house

Emboldened by the actions of their leader, Marsden and Berry followed him, shooting their rifles in a sweeping pattern across the front of the now very damaged chateau.

As they arrived within twenty feet of the building, the trio stopped their attacks. Jonas cursed as he realised he could not smell either dust or evidence of an explosion in the air. He cast a spell to remove the dust cloud from the air. The three men stood there, mouths agape, and stared at the chateau that looked as elegant and impressive as ever, without the slightest trace of damage.

"What the bloody hell is going on?" asked Berry.

Jonas cast a detection spell, and frowned at the result. There was evidence of some sort of protective wards between them and the chateau. "How the hell is this even in place?" he asked no one in particular. How could it be that such a powerful ward was present despite the use of the anti-magic mortar? He quickly scanned the front of the building; there was evidence of bullet damage to some of the windows and parts of the main wall. He waved for the two men to start shooting at the front door. "We should be able to knock that down easily enough, despite the magical wards."

After several minutes of emptying round after round into the front of the house, Jonas signalled for the two men to stop firing. Once the smoke cleared, he once again approached the house. He couldn't see any more damage had been done. Jonas paced back and forth for a minute, deep in thought. Finally, he whirled around, frustration written on his face, pulled out his wand and cast the most powerful blasting hex he could muster. The hex rebounded with the sound of a clanging gong. Jonas barely ducked out of the way in time, but Berry was not so lucky and was clipped in his side.

Jonas let out a string of expletives. "Fine, we'll make our way around back,"he finally yelled.

Marsden had quickly checked on Berry, who had suffered an injury to his left arm, and then followed Jonas. They soon found a magical barrier that they could not get around. The team had already used all of their anti-magic ward bombs, so they found themselves unable to continue. Jonas cast a detection charm and frowned once again. He was unable to locate the presence of anyone in the manor house.

"Now what sir?" asked Marsden.

"We collect our wounded, and we go home," Jonas muttered. "Dammit, Barnes is going to kill us."

.

* * *

LDW 18-2

* * *

.

 **Elsewhere in France.**

"So, Fleur, do you think those wards held that Harry had sent you a message about?" asked Sebastian, her father.

"Oui, Harry said that the Americans had been working on special wards that would protect a building from a muggle based military attack," answered Fleur. "Somehow he suspected that I may have been tracked here, just like they tracked him down at his home in London."

Sebastian placed a hand on his eldest daughter's shoulder. "Well, I will speak with the other department heads at our Ministry tomorrow. First, we need to negotiate with the Americans to get more of these wards. Second, we need to give young Harry an award for saving the head of the French DMLE and his family."

"But Papa, don't forget that Harry also told you the house elves would be able to help us escape, even through anti-apparation wards, which those bastards did put up around the manor," added Fleur.

"More the reason for giving the young man a medal," replied her father.

.

* * *

LDW 18-3

* * *

.

For most people, a beautiful summer Sunday afternoon would be a great day to spend at the park. But not for Saul Croaker. He enjoyed his work at the Department of Mysteries, and some of his work needed to get done, no matter what day it was.

Croaker had finished his examination of the various items from Harry Potter's properties. Most disturbing was finding the tracking charm which had been placed on his robes, yet it was easily found, and seemed simple enough. He was unable to find any similar charms on any of Harry's other clothes, or on the various objects that had been obtained from Grimmauld Place.

Croaker was frustrated that Harry had instructed his house elf to bring the potentially cursed items to Gringotts for inspection as he would have enjoyed searching through the many Black family heirlooms. Accepting that there was nothing he could do about that at this time, he sent a message to Harry Potter, letting him know that he had found something, and suggested that they meet.

Croaker met up with Harry and Daphne at 4 Privet Drive that evening around dinner time.

"So, you said in your message that you found something," said Harry, once the three were seated in the living room.

Saul nodded as he presented the robe that he had found had the tracking charm. "It seems that a simple tracking charm was attached to the back of the lower part of the robe."

Harry was hesitant to pick up the robe. "And you already removed the charm?"

"Of course," said the Unspeakable. "I am many things, but I'm not a fool."

Harry nodded slightly and looked at the robe again. "I think I wore this a day or two before the attack at Grimmauld Place."

Croaker simply nodded silently, indicating for Harry to continue to try and remember what may have happened.

Harry rubbed his chin. "As I recall I had quite a strange meeting with Zacharias Smith at the Leaky Cauldron."

"We can look into this for you," said Croaker.

"No, I don't think that will be necessary. I think that Daphne and I will meet up with our former classmate on our own."

"Just don't get yourself into any trouble, Mr. Potter," warned Croaker.

"Don't think I can get into any more at this point," Harry replied with a wry smile. "This is not about revenge, but my mission to eradicate those that are causing this war to continue."

Croaker nodded, then added, "This tracking charm, it can easily have been placed by a wand, and perhaps similar charms were used to track Longbottom and Abbott. There were those who had made the attack at the ball. It was not clear what they had done, but if they had cast similar tracking charms on the dress robes of various attendees…" his words trailed off as he looked over at Daphne.

Daphne's eyes narrowed, "And they may have easily tagged myself or my sister."

Croaker silently acknowledged the statement with a slight nod of his head.

"I think I need to speak with Neville about this," said Harry. "That's probably how they found both his family home, and Hannah's home as well."

With that, Croaker excused himself and he disapparated from the room.

Harry shook his head. "That man gives me the creeps sometimes." He looked at Daphne; she had a look of concern on her face. It probably was due to the information about the tracking charms which may have led the attackers against her family as well as against Neville and Hannah in addition to the attack on his own home.

Harry decided he should just try and change the subject, and turned to look at Daphne. "So, did you enjoy another day of training?"

"I am still a little sore from the stinging hexes I received, thanks to you," she said as she rubbed her arms, a slight smile indicating that she appreciated the change in subject, "but on the whole, yes, I did." She eyed him closely before continuing, "I need to thank you, for agreeing to help me with this. This isn't so much about getting revenge, but maintaining my family's honour. And if I had actually run off on my own after the lousy sods who attacked my family and my home, I would have probably ended up dead then and there."

Harry noticed the intensity in her eyes. He focused on the bright blue with speckles of grey in her irises, and felt himself being drawn into them. Then he shook his head and turned away. "Perhaps we need to find Smith," he said as he got up and walked across the room.

Daphne called after him, "You're not going to try and do that tonight, are you?"

Harry stopped, but did not turn around. "No, I think I just need to get some sleep. We can look into all of this tomorrow." Then he proceeded to head upstairs to his room.

.

* * *

LDW 18-4

* * *

.

 **Earlier that Sunday afternoon:**

An owl arrived at the Chang residence. The letter had a simple message: "The DMLE is investigating tracking charms placed on robes of various witches and wizards. Not sure if this is relevant."

Cho read the note, then she incinerated the parchment with a flick of her wand. She tossed the owl a treat and sent it on its way.

"That fool, probably was not discrete. Potter will figure out who marked him so that Barnes' men could attack him. He'll get information out of Smith probably by just staring at him. The stupid sod will probably wet himself when Potter shows up at his house. I guess I just need to pay the young man a visit."

She sent a quick owl message to the former Hufflepuff.

A couple of hours later she was standing outside of a large store in London. Leaning against the window in the storefront, she ignored the passersby as she idly kept an eye open for the young man she was planning on meeting. After several minutes the blonde haired young man walked up and came to a stop in front of the young Asian woman. She gave a slight nod and turned and walked down the sidewalk, leading the young man into an alley. Once they passed a skip she turned around and glared at him.

"Merlin, Cho," huffed Zacharias, "what's up with all of this secrecy? You said you had to speak with me urgently, and away from the magic users."

Cho closed her eyes slightly and let out a long sigh. "Don't you have any idea what is going on?"

Zacharias shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "Well, yeah, there are these muggle types, getting revenge on the pure-bloods, the ones who terrorised our country. The same ones who would attack you or me because we're not pure-bloods, because we're not good enough in their eyes. It's about time those stinking pure-bloods get what's coming to them."

"Speak for yourself," said Cho. She slowly pulled out her wand, and when Smith's eyes went wide, she added quietly, "I'm just going to cast a charm so no one can hear us. Relax."

At her words, Zacharias started to relax as he noted her cast the muffliato charm. She then slipped her wand into a pocket in the overcoat that she was wearing.

Zacharias reached up to scratch his head, wondering just why Cho was wearing an overcoat in August. A moment later Cho pulled out a handgun and shot Zacharias in the chest before he could do anything more than gasp as his eyes bulged out at the sight of the gun.

Cho smiled as the sound of gunfire did not echo down the alley. She looked at the gun which she was holding in a gloved hand, then she dropped it on top of the lifeless body of Zacharias Smith. With a feral grin she turned and apparated away.

Cho Chang walked out of the alley she had appeared in and made her way up a street near a market, where there was a vendor selling vegetables. She paid for a single onion and then made her way down the road and stepped into a doorway. Pulling out a knife, she quickly sliced into the onion and then crushed it with the flat of the blade. Holding the crushed onion up to her face momentarily was enough to cause her eyes to tear up. She quickly banished the onion before making her way to the Leaky Cauldron, and entered Diagon Alley. She tried to hide her face from others, but she was sure some people would recognise her. Making her way to a restaurant part way down the alley, she looked up to see Draco Malfoy waiting for her to arrive. As she approached her date for the evening, she could tell that he noticed her tear stained face. Before he could say anything, she spoke up, "It's been a long day. I miss my father so much."

She took a deep breath and added with a forced smile, "Let's just enjoy the evening and forget about everything that has been happening."

.

* * *

LDW 18-5

* * *

 _Somebody calls you but you cannot hear_

 _Get closer to be far away_

 _Only one look and that's all that it takes_

 _Maybe that's all that we need_

 _All that it takes, I'll bet it's right_

 _All it takes, if it's right_

 _I got a girlfriend that's better than that_

 _And she goes wherever she likes (there she goes)_

 **Monday, 24 August, 1998**

Harry had finished his breakfast and was getting ready to head out to his garage and apparate to meet up with Neville.

Daphne called out to Harry from her room upstairs. "I'll be down in a minute, Harry, I'm almost ready."

Harry was about to mutter something about women when an owl arrived at his kitchen window. He frowned, he didn't expect any sort of message. The owl offered him the letter attached to its leg and waited for some sort of token with a haughty expression. Harry grabbed a leftover sausage from the breakfast table and tossed it towards the grey owl, which caught it in mid air and quickly tossed it up before swallowing it nearly whole.

Harry unrolled the parchment and sat down in the kitchen to read the message.

"Harry, my dear friend, my Papa wants to thank you for the wards you arranged at our home. It seems that my leaving for France was not enough of a deterrent for the miserable people who attacked Bill and me at Shell Cottage and later you at your home. These bastards came to our mansion, and they attacked both with magic and with muggle weapons. Those special wards enabled us to get away safely.

Papa thinks you should be awarded a medal or some such thing for saving us.

Also, I hope that you have heard from Hermione, as she has just been here on her way back to England. I know she was returning to search for you; she wants to help you fight this ongoing battle. I pray you are safe, mon chevalier. My family is once again indebted to you, and I plan to return to England myself to help end this stupid war. Send a message back with my family's owl, Maurice, and let me know how to find you. With love, Fleur."

Harry dropped the letter on the table and shook his head.

Daphne walked into the room and stopped short at the look of exhaustion on Harry's face. "What is your problem, Harry?" she asked. Her eyes fell on the letter on the table. Reaching for it slowly, she raised an eyebrow at Harry, silently asking his permission to read it.

"Go ahead," said Harry and ran a hand through his messy hair.

Daphne read the message; her hand flew to her mouth as she realised that the attacks were now being spread out beyond England. She looked up; Harry's sad expression told everything about the deep emotions he had for the former Tri-Wizard champion. "You love her, don't you?" she asked with trembling lips, fighting back on the emotions that were trying to surface.

"Yeah, of course I do," he said, determinately looking down at his feet. Hearing a slight hiccough in response to his words he raised his head, and gaped as he noticed tears welling up in her eyes.

Daphne stopped herself from making a comment about Fleur recently being widowed, and she swallowed hard.

Harry narrowed his eyes at Daphne. Why was she so upset? A revelation hit him. "Oh, no, it's not like that," he said quickly. "She's a great friend, we went through a lot together at the Tri-Wizard Tournament, and then we helped each other earlier this year. She's great and all that, but, no, I don't love her like that, I mean I love her like a friend. She's a dear friend."

He reached out and took Daphne's hands in his. He wasn't sure what else he could or should say. Daphne smiled slightly as she looked at her hands being held gently by her new friend and teacher.

Harry stood up, dropped her hands and said, "So, I guess I can send her a note and tell her where we are."

"Are you sure that's a great idea? What if the letter is intercepted? Would she be able to find her way to a muggle neighbourhood?" Daphne rattled off a number of questions and almost made Harry's head spin.

"I suppose I could send her a simple message to contact Kingsley, the Minister for Magic." He ran a hand through his hair. "She did work with the Order, so they would know each other."

"That makes more sense," acknowledged Daphne.

Harry sat down and jotted a quick note, tied it to the owl's leg, and tossed it another piece of bacon from the breakfast they had recently finished.

Standing up, he said, "Well, we need to go see Neville. And we really need to get back to practicing and preparing for fighting these bastards." Harry made his way out of the kitchen and towards the garage.

Daphne couldn't believe how quickly he had changed the subject. She gaped after him. "Bloody hell," she whispered to herself. "Does Neville even know that you're back?" she called after him.

Harry stopped in his tracks, and turned to face her. "Well, not yet."

"Do you even know where he is?"

He stared at her. "Well, since they already attacked both his gran's home and the Abbots, I was assuming he might have changed the wards and gone back to one of those places."

Daphne shook her head at his foolish words. "And make himself an easy target? They already took down the wards his family had set up in the past. Neville is not stupid. And neither is Hannah."

Harry's shoulders slumped, and he stared up at the sky.

Daphne easily read his frustration. "Send him an owl, tell him to meet you somewhere."

"I don't have an owl," Harry said through gritted teeth. A frown appeared on his face while he seemed to consider the problem, then his eyes brightened. "I could, however, send him a patronus message."

Harry walked into the garage, with Daphne right behind him. He called out 'Expecto Patronum!" and a large silvery stag appeared out of his wand. "Find Neville, and tell him I'm back, and to meet me where I learned the truth about my godfather."

With that the mist-like creature sped off with a shimmering streak behind it as it disappeared through the garage door.

"What the hell was that?" asked a wide eyed Daphne.

"That, my dear, was a patronus, sent as a messenger."

"You did tell me about your patronus, but I never thought it would look that magnificent," exclaimed Daphne. "I didn't know they could be used to deliver messages."

"Yeah, I didn't know that until last summer. It would have helped had I known they could be used that way before then," replied Harry.

Daphne nodded slightly, "So, where exactly are you meeting Neville?"

"Ah, yes," said Harry as he began his explanation. "That would be somewhere near Hogwarts. I told Neville a lot of the details of some of the adventures I had with Ron and Hermione. So he should know exactly where I meant."

He reached out a hand, "Hold on and I'll side along apparate you."

He grasped her hand then they spun in a circle. A moment later they came spinning around and Harry fell on top of her onto a very dusty floor. The two coughed, separated their entwined limbs, and finally got up.

"Where is this?" asked Daphne and cast a spell to remove the dust and dirt from her clothes.

"Welcome to the Shrieking Shack," said Harry with a slight bow.

"The Shrieking Shack?" came the shrill response. "Isn't this place haunted?"

"No, not at all," said Harry with a large grin. "That was a rumour started by several pranksters many years ago, but I can tell you more about that later."

There was another pop as Neville and Hannah apparated into the dusty room. Harry and Daphne both had their wands out and pointed at the two who had just arrived. Seeing that it was the two people who Harry had invited to meet with them, they put their wands away.

Hannah coughed from the dust, and Neville raised an eyebrow when he saw who Harry was with and gave a slight smile as he noticed them both pull out their wands and just as quickly put them away. "Well, my friend, it's great to see you and to know that you're back, and somehow you managed to upgrade your companions!"

Before Harry or Daphne could respond to Neville's remark, Hannah poked an elbow into Neville's side. "Ignore my Neville's crassness," she quipped, "and it is good to see you both, although I didn't know you two knew each other."

Daphne smiled at Hannah, "Our paths crossed when Greengrass Manor was attacked. And Potter has agreed to help me train as I plan to seek my revenge for what they did to my home and my family."

Neville laughed slightly. "Still into the saving people thing, Harry?"

Harry ran a hand through his hair. "I just can't help it, Nev. And now that you bring it up, an acquaintance of mine found out how the terrorists managed to find my home and attack me there. It's probably how they found both of your homes as well as Daphne's."

Hannah's eyebrow raised slightly at hearing Harry refer to Daphne by her first name. "And what exactly did you find out?" she asked.

"There was a robe in my belongings that certain investigators found, marked with a tracking charm," explained Harry, "That was probably responsible for breaking any protections on my home. Considering the events at the ball earlier this year, when the two men were throwing random curses around, it was probably tracking charms being applied to those who they wanted to track down and attack."

Neville face became red. "Those bastards," he muttered through gritted teeth. "They could have marked anyone of us at the ball."

"And that's why no one detected any overt attack," said Hannah, her eyes narrowed as she considered the implications of this information.

Neville looked at Harry, "So, now that we know how they did it and what they did to track us, what are we going to do about it?"

"We need to warn the others, and I need to find Mister Zacharias Smith," said Harry.

"Do you even know where he lives?" asked Hannah.

"No," acknowledged Harry, "but I know someone who can find out for me," he added with a grin. Seeing several blank faces staring back at him, he added, "The Minister for Magic."

Harry briefly considered sending a patronus to the minister, but realised that his rather large stag running through the Ministry building may draw too much attention, so he asked Neville if he could head over to see the minister, as he was trying to avoid being seen back in magical England.

Neville readily agreed. The young couple apparated to London to speak with Kingsley Shacklebolt.

After the other two left, Harry turned to Daphne. She looked down at her feet, a slight wrinkle in her brow. His heart skipped a beat. "Daphne, is everything okay?" he asked.

"No, it's not okay," she said, not looking up at him. "My family is dead, the only skills I have to get my vengeance are the ones that you have taught me. You, Harry Potter, the Golden Boy of Gryffindor, the Chosen One, the Boy Who Lived, the Vanquisher of Voldemort. You of all people are the one who is helping me do this. You have all the answers. You know the minister. You have connections with the Unspeakables." She took a deep breath and turned away from facing him, quickly rubbing a tear out of her eye with her sleeve.

Harry shifted uneasily on his feet, his jaw hanging open in response to her little outburst. "All I have ever done is try to stop the bad guys, I'm not that special."

Daphne scoffed, then steeled her emotions as she turned to face him.

"Not that special? You already told me about your adventures! Dammit Potter, almost every girl at Hogwarts fantasised about you from when we were kids! Yes, even those from Slytherin House. You were a hero to the wizarding world, and when we were growing up, it was not polite to discuss the Death Eaters and He Who Must Not Be Named, so no one, not even Malfoy before you showed up at Hogwarts, dared say anything bad about the Boy Who Lived and all of his fanciful adventures."

Harry's mouth was still open. "Wait, you read those, those books?"

Daphne rolled her eyes at him. "Of course I did. We all did. It was almost bragging rights among young witches - did you have the entire set of Harry Potter books? How many times have you read the books? My papa's going to buy me the next book right when it comes out! My grandparents saw Harry Potter on one of his adventures in India, or Africa, or Merlin, we were all pathetic."

"You didn't believe them, did you?" asked Harry tentatively. "They were just stories. I never rode on a dragon when I was little. I was raised by Muggle relatives who treated me worse than a house elf in Malfoy Manor."

"No, you may not have ridden a dragon, but you proved you could out fly one," she said, a slight smile coming to her lips. "And I did see you ride a hippogriff once." A slight red tinge creeped into her cheeks.

Harry shook his head as he considered what Daphne had told him. His eyes then went wide and a grin formed on his face. Then he rubbed his face and frowned. "No, that couldn't be," he said quietly.

Daphne looked at him and her eyes narrowed. "What couldn't be?" came her stilted question.

"Oh, nothing," said Harry whose words indicated a little fear.

Her expression turned to a glare, "Spill it Potter! What made you grin and then frown so quickly?"

"Just the things you said," he replied hesitantly.

"What about what I said?" she demanded.

Harry spluttered but decided he best answer so as to avoid this woman's wrath. "Well, today you were telling me about all the foolish children books written about me. The other day you were telling me about Ginny and her stories to keep the young witches away."

"What about that?" came the stern question.

"Well, it just occurred to me, that this former Slytherin who barely knew me, sure seemed to have taken a keen interest in stories about me, whether they be the books or tales from other witches," Harry said slowly, and backing away from Daphne as well. "So, I wondered, why would a Slytherin be so interested in a Gryffindor?"

Harry noticed the furrowed brow and the intense gaze she levelled at him. He noticed the muscles in her arm tense and then with his seeker's quick reflexes he caught her hand before she slapped him in the face.

"But I was probably wrong about all that," he said quickly, looking back and forth between her hand and her face.

Daphne quickly pulled her hand out of his, and let out a loud huff. "Why, oh, Merlin, never mind!" She then turned and stomped out of the room.

Harry watched her storm off, then quickly he called after her, "Um, Greengrass, um, Daphne, we shouldn't leave the house, the shack! We're not supposed to even be here, remember? I'm still in America and everyone thinks you're dead!"

Daphne stopped in the middle of the other room and turned around to come and stand in the doorway leading back to where Harry was.

"Fine!" she said.

Harry swallowed hard, regretting his reaction and his words. "Look, I get it, you said everyone read those books. I'm sorry about what I may have implied. But we probably ought to plan to meet up with Smith soon."

Daphne allowed a smile to come to her face. "That ought to scare the shite out of him, considering I'm supposed to be dead and you've left the country."

.

* * *

LDW 18-6

* * *

.

 **Monday afternoon**

Hermione and Scott made their way to the Ministry of Magic; she was sure that Kingsley Shacklebolt would be able to help her find her best mate. As she made her way towards one of the lifts, she stopped short upon seeing another one of her former classmates walking down the hall, hand in hand with Hannah Abbott.

"Neville!" called out Hermione and nearly ran to give him a hug.

"Hermione!" he replied as he wrapped his arms around her. Then he stepped back and pointed to the witch by his side. "You do remember, Hannah, don't you? She was in our year, in Hufflepuff."

Hermione nodded slightly as she smiled, "Of course I do, Neville." She leaned forward and gave Hannah a gentle hug and a kiss on the cheek. "How are you doing? I heard your homes were attacked!" However, before they could answer, she looked at their entwined hands , and she added, "Wait, you two are a couple? Congratulations!"

There was a slight cough from behind Hermione before anyone could respond. Hermione put a hand to her face. "Oh, I am so sorry, Scott," she apologised. "Scott, this is Hannah and Neville, classmates of mine from Hogwarts. Neville helped us defeat Tom Riddle when he killed that giant snake I told you about. Guys, this is Scott. Scott's from Australia, part of their DMLE. He helped me find my parents there!"

Neville raised an eyebrow as he appraised the man with his eyes. "Well, then we thank you for helping Hermione out, and for bringing her back to us."

"My pleasure, mate," said Scott, speaking for the first time to the two. "I've heard a lot about her adventures here in school. You're just about as I imagined after hearing her tell all about your bravery, Neville."

Neville blushed a little.

"Oh, Nev, you know I only told him how great a friend you've been to Harry and I," stated Hermione. Changing the subject she asked, "So, what brings you here today?"

"We were on our way to speak with Shack," explained Neville, "you remember him. I have some information for him."

Hermione's eyes lit up even more. "Oh, can we accompany you? I was on my way to ask Shack some questions, if that would be okay."

As they stepped onto the lift, Neville continued their conversation. "So, what were you going to ask the minister about?"

Hermione seemed to bounce with excitement, "Ever since I returned to Europe, I have been trying to get in touch with Harry. I can't seem to find him or contact him. I figured the minister would know how I could reach him."

Hannah and Neville shared a look, which did not go unnoticed by Hermione. "Wait, you know something, don't you Neville?"

Neville nodded. "Yeah, it's not known publicly, but he is back in England. He is preparing to stop the terrorists who have been attacking magicals. You know they destroyed my family's home? And Hannah's. Then they attacked Harry's home, Grimmauld Place."

Hermione gasped. "Oh my," she began. "How did they ever find those places?"

"That's what we're on our way to speak with the minister about," stated Neville, not comfortable revealing too much information before he had a chance to speak directly with Kingsley.

Hannah picked up on this and joined the conversation. "So, Hermione, you said you have been in Europe? Did you stop on the continent before coming back here?"

Hermione nodded as she replied. "Oh, yes, well, we stopped in France. We visited with Fleur Delacour-Weasley and her family. Then we came here. But getting across the channel wasn't easy as the Ministry of Magic is monitoring all travel in and out of the country right now."

As they stepped off of the lift, Hermione spoke to Neville again. "You said you knew Harry was back. Then maybe you can get a message to him. We're staying in a muggle hotel to avoid making too big of a scene in magical England. If Harry is in hiding for now, maybe you could get a message to him. I really need to speak with him."

Neville looked back and forth between Scott and Hermione before replying. "Sure, I can get him the message. I'm sure he'll want to see you as soon as possible."

Neville and Hannah started to make their way down the hall towards the minister's office, but Hermione and Scott did not follow.

Neville paused and turned to face them. "Aren't you coming with?"

"No need to, Neville," said Hermione as she smiled. "If you're going to get the message to Harry for me, I really don't need to bother the minister, as I was just trying to get in touch with Harry. Thanks again Neville. Take care, Hannah, great to see you both."

Neville and Hannah continued on to the minister's office. As they stepped into the reception area, an Auror made his way past them and called out to the minister's secretary, "I have an important message for the Minister!"

They stepped back from the desk as the secretary sent a message to the minister. A minute later, Kingsley walked out from his office. Upon seeing Neville and Hannah he greeted them with a warm smile. Turning to the Auror he asked calmly, "What is all of this commotion, sir?"

The young Auror took a deep breath. "I'm Auror Hunt, sir. Robards told me to come see you right away. It seems the muggle police found a body in an alley just a while ago. Turns out when they identified the body it was a wizard, sir. A certain Zacharias Smith. He was shot by a muggle handgun. Whoever shot him just left the weapon laying on top of the body, sir."

Kingsley frowned. "Now that's odd. If he was mugged by a non magical, then why would they leave the weapon behind? And that name doesn't sound like one of the Sacred Twenty-eight, so it wouldn't make sense for the terrorists to have killed him." He sighed heavily. Looking back at the Auror he dismissed him. "I'm sure Robards is having your team do a thorough investigation. Have him send me a report as quickly as possible."

Hunt nodded, then he turned and left the office.

Kingsley sighed once more before turning to greet Neville and Hannah. "Good to see you again, Neville. And you, too, Miss Abbot." He waved his hand towards his office. "Come on in and we can discuss whatever it is you have to share with me."

.

* * *

LDW 18-7

* * *

.

Harry and Daphne were about to apparate back to Little Whinging, when his amulet started to glow. Lifting it up with his hand, the pulsations indicated to him that there was an attack at Ernie MacMillan's home. "Dammit, there's another attack. The MacMillan's manor's wards just collapsed."

He grabbed Daphne's hand and then they twisted in place. As they appeared with a pop at the edge of the ward line for the MacMillan Estate, they both had their wands drawn. The two sprinted across the lawn in front of them. Several people attacked the house with muggle rifles.

Daphne called out to Harry as they ran, "It looks like they haven't been able to enter the house yet."

"If they use the same attacks on this manor as they did on yours, it won't bloody matter," snapped Harry.

He casted blasting spells around the ground where the group of attackers were standing. Daphne sent several bludgeoning hexes as she ran, most of them simply hitting the ground in front of the team, sending up more clouds of dust and dirt.

The men turned; and two of them aimed at the pair running across the grounds. One of Daphne's spells managed to hit one of the men in the chest just as Harry conjured a slab of rock in front of them to protect them from the bullets. Harry grabbed Daphne to pull her behind the makeshift barrier. The two sat behind the rock to catch their breath.

"Nice shot, Daphne," said Harry, "now we're down to only four of them."

He had barely finished his statement when a red beam of light hit the rock just above where he was sitting. Looking up, Harry saw that they were being flanked from their right by another group of attackers.

"Way to speak too soon, Potter," snapped Daphne. Harry conjured another slab of rock just before a round of bullets from their new attackers hit them.

"At least they waited for you to make some sort of shield," she added with a slight laugh.

Harry peered around the edge of the first stone; there were no more bullets ricocheting off of it, and noted that those men were once again assaulting the house. Thinking he had a chance to make another attack, Harry jumped up and cast a series of spells at the first group, incapacitating two of the men: one had a leg shattered and the other had his arm broken.

Daphne didn't waste time in setting up a shield above the second stone barrier that allowed her to look up. The five assailants coming from that side included one man with a wand, three with rifles and one with a much larger weapon he was setting up. He pointed the large weapon at the house and fired a rocket into the side of the manor. The explosion startled Daphne and she fell back from the stone slab.

Harry dove behind the protective slabs once again. After quickly checking that his partner was not injured the two of them moved to either side of the stone slab and started sending spells at the group that was advancing on them. Daphne managed to hit one in the knee with an overpowered bludgeoning hex, and Harry hit one in the chest. The kevlar vest he was wearing took the brunt of the hex that Harry had sent at him, but the force still sent him back and knocked him out.

Middleton was leading the attack and was cursing himself for missing with his first spell. He quickly noted that two of his men were down, and three others from Team Alpha were also incapacitated. Calling out over their communication headsets, Middleton announced that they would abandon this attack. "Fall back, fall back," he yelled. "Activate all emergency port keys! There's two magicals here, not just one!"

Flanders was reloading his grenade launcher. "I'll be right behind you sir, but I plan on taking those two out first!"

Harry and Daphne saw that the man was now aiming the powerful weapon at them. Harry realised that if the grenade hit the stone slab then there would be hundreds of stone pieces of shrapnel that could injure them easily and possibly overwhelm their shields. He tapped Daphne on the shoulder and indicated that they should make a run towards a nearby ditch. The two jumped into the small hollow in the ground, both casting the shield spells that Harry had learned from Staci.

Flanders watched his targets make a leap for the small ditch and laughed as he pulled the trigger. He didn't wait for the explosion to finish before he activated his Portkey.

The two magical shields were up just as the grenade soared to the small mound of dirt they had jumped behind. Harry had landed on top of Daphne who had rolled onto her side as she cast her shield. The magical shields buckled above them as the majority of the explosion was absorbed, but they were only hit with a small shower of dirt and rocks. The two lay there, now covered with dirt, Harry on top of Daphne. The sounds of the attacks had ended and the shields had held up against the grenade.

As they lay on the ground staring into each others eyes, they each let out a sigh of relief.

Harry muttered quietly, "Our combined shields held."

"I guess they did," replied Daphne with a slight blink of her eyes.

Harry brushed the dirt off of her forehead.

Daphne smiled at him, lifted her head and planted a kiss on his lips. Harry rested on his right arm and returned the soft kiss. After a minute of simply allowing their lips to mingle, Daphne pulled her head away.

Harry raised an eyebrow, wondering if he did something wrong and a look of worry crossed his face.

Daphne noted his response, then she forced out. "Can you get off of me now, Potter, you are a bit heavy."

Harry quickly stood up, brushing the dirt off of himself. He then offered a hand to help Daphne stand. The entire time they never took their eyes off of each other.

"Potter is it now?" questioned Harry.

The corner of Daphne's lips curled into a slight smile. "If I need you to get off of me, then yes, it's Potter."

Harry started to lean in towards her for another kiss as Daphne turned her face away and looked over at the manor. "Not to be a spoilsport, but there maybe people in there, and the manor is not completely destroyed."

Harry closed his eyes tight for a moment, rubbed his hand across his forehead as he said, "Yeah, right, I suppose we better check on Ernie's family."

The two made their way to the manor building and started casting aguamenti charms to put out any fires from the grenade attacks.

Their quick observations showed that at least a third of the building had serious structural damage. Harry was searching for the safest way to enter, when one of the doors to his left was flung open and several people came running out.

The first person out of the door was an older man, who had his wand in his hand and a red light was suddenly shot at Harry.

Harry was able to use his wand to bat the spell aside.

A younger wizard reached out and pulled down the wand arm of the man who cast the spell.

"Dammit, Grandpapa, I told you, that's not one of the attackers!"

Harry immediately recognised Ernie Macmillan and smiled. He breathed a sigh of relief.

"Is anybody hurt? Do we need to get anyone to St Mungo's?" called out Daphne.

Ernie smile at the two in front of them. He held onto his grandfather's arm, not allowing him to cast any more spells as he made his way towards Harry.

"Damn glad to see you, Potter," he said with a smile. His smile wavered a moment as his face expressed his puzzlement. "And Greengrass? But I thought I read that you and your family were all killed."

Daphne managed to remain stoic as she answered him. "No, I managed to survive, thanks to Harry, here. But he wasn't able to save the rest of my family.'."

Ernie's smile faded to a frown. "Sorry, Greengrass, I didn't mean to make light of anything."

"It's alright, Ernie," said Harry as he stepped forward to introduce himself to Ernie's family.

Ernie's grandfather turned and looked at the damage done to his ancestral home. "Bloody hell, look what those bastards did!" Then he turned to look at Harry, ignoring Daphne standing beside him. He waved his wand in Harry's face. "So, you're the famous Harry Potter, eh? Couldn't have bothered to show up any sooner and saved my family home, eh? Well then, you go find those wankers and give them what for. For me and my family!"

A clearly distressed Ernie tried to calm down his grandfather. "Grandpapa, he helped us! You don't need to threaten him!"

Harry and Daphne shared a look, but before they could speak, Ernie's grandfather started up again.

"He's Harry bloody Potter! He defeated the Dark Wanker as a baby, and took him out for good earlier this year! There's no way that he is afraid of me and he sure as hell isn't afraid of the wankers who attacked us! You said he even taught you one year!"

Ernie looked to Harry and tried to apologise with his eyes. Before anyone else could say anything, a middle aged couple stepped forward and introduced themselves to Harry and Daphne. "Lord and Lady Macmillan, at your service, Mr. Potter. And Miss Greengrass," began Ernie's father.

"Thank you, thank you, for coming to our aid," said Lady Macmillan. She then turned to her father-in-law, "Now, Papa, you really must sit down."

Harry smiled and then started to reassure Ernie. Shortly after this a team of Aurors arrived at the edge of the property and made there way over to the group.

Gawain Robards nodded at Harry as he came to speak with the Macmillan family. "Did you see who attacked you?"

"It was a couple of groups," began Ernie, speaking for his father and grandfather. "There were two groups of five, and no, we didn't get a good look at them. We hid in our secure room. Potter and Greengrass showed up and managed to drive them away. I think they may have injured a few."

Robards was about to admonish the young man for answering for his father, but noted that neither of the two older men did anything to stop him from speaking up. Robards turned to Harry. "So, you managed to get here in time to help, I see."

"Well, we weren't able to prevent all the damage they caused," stated Harry. "But no one was killed, and Ernie was right, we did injure several of the two groups. Some of the men were ones I saw at the Abbots and the Greengrasses.."

Robards nodded in response to Harry. He looked at Daphne and started to open his mouth to ask her a question, but stopped when he noticed Harry Potter glaring at him.

"She's with me," proclaimed Harry. "And so far, no one else in the wizarding world knows she survived the attack on her family the other day. She will be assisting me in my tasks."

Robards looked back and forth between the two and then shrugged his shoulders. "Then she's your problem, not ours."

Harry narrowed his eyes as he added, "Just don't let it become public knowledge that Daphne survived." Harry turned to Ernie and his family. "And that goes for all of you."

There was general agreement voiced by everyone present.

"If that's it then, we'll be leaving," said Harry.

Robards raised his hand to indicate for Harry to wait a moment. "Potter, the minister would like to speak with you. He has a message for you."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Tell him to come see me at my current home."

With his terse reply, Harry grabbed Daphne by the hand and they apparated away.

.

* * *

LDW 18-8

* * *

.

Middleton was angry. He did not appreciate being yelled at by Barnes. Barnes did not appreciate multiple mission failures.

Barnes ran his hand through his short hair once again as he paced back and forth. "So, the veela bitch and her family have some sort of special wards we couldn't break. And then Potter proves that he is back and saves the Macmillan family."

"Yes sir, that is what we said," stated Middleton, stopping himself from rolling his eyes at his partner and friend. But Barnes was in angry leader mode now, and he knew that Barnes needed to vent his anger. Middleton suppressed a smile as he thought how thankful he was that Barnes at least didn't get violent when he was angry like this. He may get loud, as he was doing, but at least he didn't get violent.

Barnes continued to pace in silence. "So, some bitch was with him, you said."

"Yes sir, there was a witch with Potter. She seemed almost as strong as he was. She took out a couple of the men herself," said Middleton. "She of course may have just got lucky, but she seemed to be confident in what she was doing."

"Any idea who she is?" asked Barnes as he stopped in front of Middleton.

"No sir, but we know it wasn't the veela bitch," said Middleton. "And it definitely wasn't Granger, either."

Barnes took a deep breath. "No, we know it wasn't her." A slight smile came across his face. "Well, we still have that going for us."

Middleton smiled back.

Barnes turned and sighed. "Make sure the men are getting healed properly," he added without turning back to face Middleton.

"Already on that," he replied.

.

* * *

LDW 18-9

* * *

 _I got a girlfriend that's better than that_

 _She has the smoke in her eyes_

 _She's coming up, going right through my heart_

 _She's gonna give me surprise_

 _I think it's right, Better than this_

 _I think you can if you like_

 _I got a girlfriend with bows in her hair_

 _And nothing is better than that (is it?)_

 _._

Harry and Daphne arrived at Privet Drive and made their way quickly from the garage into the house. The two stopped in the kitchen and just looked at each other for a minute. Harry took a step towards Daphne, and she reached out with her arms and pulled his head towards her.

The snogging session in the kitchen lasted several minutes, only interrupted by an owl coming to the window.

The two separated and Harry muttered an apology. "I probably ought to see what the owl wants."

Daphne wiped her lips with her hand quickly and nodded, "Yes, yes you should."

She took a deep breath and sat herself down in one of the kitchen chairs while Harry opened the window. The owl hooted angrily at him and stuck out one leg with a note wrapped around it. He quickly untied the note and looked around the room for something to give the bird. Finding nothing at first he opened the fridge to find nothing suitable in there, either. "I'm sorry, but I just don't have anything for you."

The owl gave an indignant hoot, leaned forward and nipped Harry's finger, drawing blood. Then the owl turned and flew off into the evening sky.

"Damn, that hurt," muttered Harry as he wrapped a wash cloth around his finger.

"Who's the note from?" asked Daphne.

"Just a minute," he said, as he was trying to open the note but only managed to spray a little blood on the parchment.

"Here, let me help you," offered Daphne and she walked over to him.

Harry held out his bleeding finger, which Daphne ignored as she took the letter from his hand. Harry rolled his eyes at her and looked for some sort of bandage.

Daphne sat down again with the letter and laughed at Harry. "Are you a wizard or not? Use your bloody wand to fix your finger."

"Fine, fine," he said as he snapped his wrist to get his wand into his hand. A moment later his finger was fine, and he went over to the table and reached out for the letter.

"Uh, uh, uh," teased Daphne, "I have it."

"Alright," grumbled Harry in defeat. "So read it, already."

Daphne smirked at him and unrolled the parchment.

"Dear Harry, I've missed you so much. I've got so much to tell you! I'm back in England! I did find my parents, but they wanted to stay in Australia. This nice young Australian Auror has been helping me. He even helped me get back to England. I ran into Neville and Hannah today. It seems that I have missed so much while I have been gone. But don't worry, I'm back to stay. I want to help. Let me know what I can do. Maybe we can meet tomorrow morning in Diagon Alley. I know you have been hiding, Neville told me about what has been happening. If you can, meet me in front of the old store front for the Weasley's. I'll be there around ten. If you haven't shown up by half ten, I'll try and meet up with you the next day, same time. I'm actually staying at a non magical hotel, so, sending an owl back to me may not be the best idea. Hope to see you soon. Hermione."

Daphne looked at Harry, searching his eyes for some sort of reaction, or feeling.

Harry was looking at the table and then he noticed Daphne staring at him. His eyes went wide and he spoke up. "No, no, what is with you? Why does every message I get from a witch make you angry? Hermione and I have been best friends since first year, since the troll incident." He took a deep breath, then he added, "We're together, you and I, at least that's what I think all that happened today means. Besides, Hermione was dating Ron, and she's like my sister, and..."

Daphne leaned forward and silenced him with a kiss. After a minute she leaned back and laughed slightly at Harry. "It's okay, Potter, I get it, and no, I'm not jealous. But it sure was fun to make you sit there and squirm for a little bit."

"What?" exclaimed Harry.

Daphne smirked at him. "Remember, I was a girl in Slytherin, I am allowed to be cunning."

"That's not cunning, that's …., that's ….," Harry stumbled over his words as he tried to think about what to say.

"It's me, being me, so you better get used to it," she added with a smile. Then Daphne placed the letter on the table and slid it over to him. "So, what are you going to do? Are we going to meet up with her?"

Harry leaned back as he stared at the parchment on the table. "Well, we have been in hiding, but then again, the terrorists now know I'm back."

Daphne chuckled, "I would think so, you did leave a mark on several of them."

Harry grinned slightly, "I kind of did, but not enough of one, I'm afraid. But, yeah, I think I should meet up with Hermione in the morning."

"We will meet up with Hermione," corrected Daphne. "We're in this together, isn't that clear enough?"

Harry smiled. "I don't know, why don't we try to make it a little more clear?"

Daphne smiled back. "No more snogging until after we get some dinner."

.

* * *

LDW 18-10

* * *

 _As we get older and stop making sense_

 _You won't find her waiting long_

 _Stop making sense, stop making sense...stop making sense, making sense_

 _I got a girlfriend she's better than that_

 _And nothing is better than this_

 _(Is it?)_

.

 **Tuesday, 25 August, 1998.**

Harry and Daphne arrived across from the Leaky Cauldron a few minutes before ten. They had cloaks pulled up to obscure their features as they made their way down Diagon Alley. Harry was hoping that no one would notice them and make a scene. Daphne had told him to at least change his hair colour if he didn't want to be noticed, so he let her change it to a dirty blonde, as long as she changed it back when they met up with Hermione, as he told her he didn't want Hermione to laugh at him.

"Everything will be fine," said Daphne, trying to reassure him as they made their way towards the old shop for Weasley Wizarding Wheezes.

Harry reached out and took Daphne's hand in his. "I know it will, it's just ... So much has happened."

Daphne stopped walking, which caused Harry to spin around and look at her as she did not let go of his hand. "Something always happens around you. That's just the way you are, Harry."

Harry smiled at Daphne actually using his first name, which she rarely had done up until now.

"Ever since you arrived at Hogwarts, there was always something big happening, always involving you. You're a crap magnet," she said. "Always have been, since you were an infant, you know, that whole Boy Who Lived thing. So, stop fighting it, just accept it. And you damned well better be prepared the next time something happens, because now that we're together, this will not end up with my mourning losing you."

"Yes, dear," said Harry sheepishly.

Daphne gave him a quick kiss on his cheek before telling him to turn around.

Harry came face to face with his best friend and greeted her with a hug and a kiss on her cheek. Hermione did the same, but held the hug a little longer than Daphne thought would be necessary.

Hermione looked up at her best friend and smiled.

"It is so good to see you again, Harry. And let me introduce you to Scott, Scoot Hubbard. Scott, this is Harry Potter," she said as Scott stepped up from behind her, and extended his hand.

"It's an honour to meet you, Harry," said Scott as he shook his hand firmly.

Hermione then continued, "And this is…" she stopped speaking as her mouth hung open for a minute. "Greengrass? What are you doing here?"

"Granger," acknowledged Daphne with a slight nod. She reached out a hand to Scott, "I'm Daphne Greengrass, and I'm with the local saviour of the wizarding world."

Scott smiled as he greeted her.

Hermione was still shocked to see the former Slytherin. "But, how do you even know Harry?"

Daphne rolled her eyes at Hermione. "And everyone said you're the smart one! I just told you, 'local saviour of the wizarding world'. Hello? He saved me when those bloody terrorists destroyed my home and killed my family."

"So, what, you just hooked up with him because of that?" asked an exacerbated Hermione.

"It's not like that at all," stated Harry.

"He agreed to teach me to defend myself," explained Daphne. "And things clicked more than as teacher and student…"

Daphne's words were cut off by an explosion up the alley, closer to the goblin run bank.

"Bloody hell, not an attack, here in the middle of Diagon Alley," exclaimed Harry as he drew his wand. He started to make his way up the alley.

"Hey mate," called out Scott as he grasped Harry by the elbow. "Let's go around, behind these shops, that way we will have cover and they won't see us coming."

"Okay, but we better run," replied Harry, already on his way behind Madam Malkin's clothing shop.

Daphne turned to Hermione. "You better have your wand, we need to go shield and protect any bystanders. The Aurors should be here any moment."

Hermione nodded and followed Daphne as thy slowly made their way up the Alley, sticking close to the front of the buildings.

Behind Madam Malkin's shop, Scott tripped over something an called out as he fell. Harry stopped and reached out to help him up. "You alright there?" he asked.

Scott smiled as he slapped his arm hard onto Harry's shoulder. "I will be now," he said with a feral grin.

Harry felt the sudden pull through his navel of a port-key being activated. "Bloody hell," he thought as they disappeared.

* * *

 _ **Lyrics: © 1983, "Girlfriend is Better", Talking Heads, Speaking in Tongues, written by: Jerry Harrison, Tina Weymouth, Chris Frantz & David Byrne**_

* * *

 **AN: Again, a huge thank you to Dorothea Greengrass who has been editing this story for me. And like all of you who are upset with the cliffhanger - so is she….**


	19. Chapter 19 - Blind

**LDW - 19**

 _ **"Blind"**_

 _Signs_

 _Signs are lost_

 _Signs disappeared_

 _Turn invisible_

 _Got no sign_

 _Somebody got busted_

 _Got a face of stone_

 _And a ghostwritten biography_

 _Dogs start to run in,_

 _Hungry for some food_

 _Dogs start a-twitching_

 _And they're looking at you_

 _It was light_

 _By five_

 _Torn all apart_

 _All in the name of democracy_

 _He's hurt_

 _He's dying_

 _Claimed he was a terrorist_

 _Claimed to avert a catastrophe_

 _Someone should'a told him_

 _That the buck stops here_

 _No one ever said_

 _That he was involved with thieves_

 _And they're blind, blind_

 _blind, blind, blind, blind, blind_

 _blind, blind_

 _blind, blind, blind, blind, blind_

 _No sense of harmony, No sense of_

 _time, Don't mention harmony, Say:_

 _What is it? What is it? What is it? Give_

 _a little shock, and he raises his hand_

 _Somebody shouts out, says: What is_

 _it? What is it? What is it?_

 _He was shot down in the night!_

 _People ride by but his body's still alive_

 _The girl in the window what has she done?_

 _She looks down at me ..._

 _says: "I don't want to die!"_

 _And I'm blind, blind_

 _blind, blind, blind, blind, blind_

 _Somebody could have told us where they go_

 _Crawling all around looking for foot, foot, footprints_

 _Now tell me what the Hell have we become?_

 _Some dirty little bastards What the Hell is going on?_

 _They're blind and they're blind_

 _blind, blind, blind, blind, blind_

 _blind, blind…_

* * *

LDW - 19.1

* * *

A hand grabbed Harry's elbow, followed by the squeezing sensation of a Portkey. His wand was in his hand in preparation to engage the wizards who had started the attack in Diagon Alley, but the Portkey caught him off guard. The spinning from the Portkey made him stumble and fall when he landed in a dimly lit room. A red light shot out from behind him, and the world became pitch black.

Harry woke up to a single bright light blinding him. He blinked, trying to adjust his eyes to the bright light, and took stock of his situation. His hands were tied to the sides of a chair, and his ankles were tied to its legs. A few slight tugs at his bindings made it quite clear that he was tied up to the uncomfortable wooden chair like a package to the legs of a post owl. He tried to make out his surroundings beyond the blinding light. He was in a large room, a warehouse perhaps, and there was a small table nearby. His wand was on the table; would it be possible to catch his wand in his hand that was tied to the chair if he managed to summon it silently?

Repeating footsteps of someone pacing to his right caused him to turn his head, the only body part he could move. Scott Hubbard approached him, and Harry gritted his teeth to stop himself from making a nasty remark.

* * *

LDW - 19.2

* * *

The two witches hurried up Diagon Alley to where the fighting had broken out, winding their way through a number of bystanders. Daphne indicated with her left hand to Hermione, and she nodded in understanding. The next moment the two witches sent out shield charms to protect anyone from possible stray or errant spells.

The flash of new spell fire coming from their left confused the attackers, and they paused. The reprieve was only short lived: they turned and faced Hermione and Daphne.

The loud pop of Apparation announced the arrival of several Aurors on the scene, who immediately sent stunning spells at the two attackers, and cursed loud when the two activated Emergency Portkeys before the spells connected.

* * *

LDW - 19.3

* * *

Cho Chang woke up and rubbed her eyes. She was in a strange bed, in a strange room. The events of the night before came back to her: she'd spent the night with that Pureblood git Draco Malfoy; it was necessary, she had to win his confidence. And yet … bile rose in her throat, she jumped out of the bed and ran to the loo, where she vomited into the toilet.

She cast a cleansing charm on her mouth and washed her face with cool water from the sink. She made her way out of the bathroom and looked around the room, seeing her clothes scattered on the floor. Apparently, Draco had woken before her and he had already washed and dressed.

His voice called to her from outside of the bedroom. "Hey, Cho, I have a meeting I need to attend at the Ministry of Magic, and if I don't leave now I may be late."

Cho forced a smile to her face, even if she couldn't be seen. "Oh, okay, that explains my finding myself all alone this morning." She tried to make her voice sound as cheerful as possible in her reply.

"Hey, how about we meet up here, say about half six, for dinner," suggested Draco.

"Sure thing, sounds great!" Hopefully, her voice didn't sound too sweet.

Draco muttered something that sounded a lot like Ministry of Magic, and then the flat was silent. She made her way out to the living room and summoned her house elf. She gave him a list of things she had put away in a hidden part of her home for him to bring back.

He returned seconds later, and she took the bag which she had previously prepared, and placed it contents on a table: a simple timer, with wires which she inserted into some plastic explosives. She set the timer to go off at about half six, placed the bomb under the sink in the kitchen, and didn't forget to cast a quick cleaning charm to remove any fingerprints or other identifying elements. She collected her things and made her way through the Floo to her family's home.

* * *

LDW - 19.4

* * *

At the Ministry of Magic, one of the Unspeakables sent a message to Croaker.

Croaker immediately met with the Unspeakable. "What is it, Barton?"

"I discovered something curious about the Chang investigation," replied Unspeakable Barton.

"Go ahead," Croaker said.

Unspeakable Barton took a deep breath and explained his findings. The furrow between Croaker's brows became deeper with every word he said.

"I think Robards needs to hear this asap," he said when Barton finished his explanations.

Not even five minutes later Croaker and Barton sat at the desk in Robards' office.

"Unspeakable Barton made a discovery in the Chang investigation you need to hear about, Gawain," Croaker started the meeting.

Robards raised an eyebrow. "And just what is that?"

"Mr. Chang's wand - it is the same wand that cast the spell that injured young Malfoy."

Robards' jaw dropped, and his brow furrowed. "If Chang attacked Malfoy, then why did the terrorists have him killed? That doesn't make sense." He took a deep breath. "We have to talk to the Auror investigating Chang's death to review what was found at the Chang residence. Perhaps a more thorough investigation needs to be done."

The lead Auror on the investigation was summoned to their meeting. He gave the two Unspeakables a short nod in greeting, conjured another seat for himself, and recounted the events that had happened the day Chang senior was murdered. "Well, we received the patronus message that they were being attacked. When we arrived the wards were down. Mr. Chang was found dead, having received a gunshot wound to the chest. Several, in fact."

Robards scratched the side of his head. "Did you check for spell damage on the body?"

"There was obvious spell damage on the walls, and his daughter had been hit with a Stunner."

Robards shoved back his seat, sprang up, and paced behind his desk. "How were the wards brought down?"

The Auror started, his mouth gaping. "I … I don't know, sir."

Robards glared at the lead Auror. "How did the attackers enter or leave the residence?"

"We're not sure, sir," came the meek reply.

Robards rolled his eyes. He leaned forward, his hands on his desk, and stared at the Auror. "Is it possible that the only people who ever were at the Chang residence that day, before you arrived, were the deceased and his daughter?"

The lead Auror stiffened, his eyes blinking. "But that wouldn't make any sense, sir. There was no weapon present. And she had clearly been knocked out by a Stunner."

Robards was still leaning on his fists on his desk. "Did you check Miss Chang's wand?"

"Yes, of course. She had fired a Blasting Hex. Rather weak spell, it turns out."

There was silence in the office for a minute.

Croaker exchanged a look with Unspeakable Barton. The look of sudden understanding that flickered across the face of the younger man confirmed he had come to the same conclusions as he had. He took a deep, slow breath before he confronted the Auror. "Did you consider that she may have stunned herself?"

The Auror tilted his head in obvious confusion. , "Sir?"

"Which part of my question did you not understand?" Croaker snapped at the man.

Small beads of sweat collected on the brow of the Auror. "But … Her wand was not in her hand, she must have dropped it as she fell. If she had sent the Stunner at herself, she would have fallen with the wand next to her, wouldn't she."

Croaker sighed and rolled his eyes. Was this man really supposed to be a top Auror?

He gave a look to Robards, who shrugged, and turned back to the Auror, "Have you never seen Shield Spells that reflect magic?"

The Auror shifted uneasily from one foot to another. "Um... I'm aware it can be done in theory, sir, but I've never seen it done."

Croaker nodded to Barton, who cast a shield spell in front of himself. Croaker looked back at the Auror. "Fire a Stunner at Barton."

The Auror hesitated.

Robards huffed. "Fire already!"

The Auror cast the spell, which hit the shield with a loud clang and immediately rebounded back into the Auror, who fell to the floor.

"Quod erat demonstrandum," Croaker said dryly. He enervated the Auror. "So, where's your wand?"

The Auror blinked, looked around, and found his wand laying on the floor on the other side of the office. He quickly put his wand in the holster on his wrist, cheeks red and eyes cast down, avoiding to look at the others in the room.

Robards coughed to get the Auror's attention. "You're hired to actually think things through, not just come to the simplest conclusions, particularly if someone sets up clues to make you think one thing and miss the truth."

The Auror nodded slightly, then voiced a question. "Are we going to go after the young Miss Chang now?"

Robards shook his head and sighed. "No, you need to gather more information. What do we know about her? What has she been up to since the war ended? In other words, do your job. Then you go back to her residence."

The Auror quickly left the office, and Croaker and Robards looked at each other and smirked.

"Do you think he actually learned anything from all of this?" asked Croaker.

"He damn well better have, or he won't be working here much longer," replied Robards with a sigh.

* * *

LDW - 19.5

* * *

While the Aurors made sure that the area was secure and any who were injured were treated or sent off to St. Mungo's, Hermione and Daphne were looking for Harry and Scott who had not turned up yet.

"Where in Merlin's name did those two get off to?" asked Daphne, as she surveyed the gathering crowd.

"They apparently went to sneak up on the attackers by going around the back of the buildings," said Hermione.

Daphne made her way between the buildings and headed back to where they would have come from. There was no sign of Harry or Scott, or any sort of struggle in the back alley.

Her stomach gave a hard lurch. It wasn't like Harry to disappear like this. She whirled around and glared at Hermione. "Where are they? What the bloody hell happened?"

Hermione's jaw dropped, and she backed away at the venom in Daphne's voice. "How am I supposed to know?"

Daphne's face turned red with fury. "Harry went off with this unknown Australian bloke, whom you brought to this meeting between the two of you, and now they've disappeared."

"Maybe the terrorists grabbed them both," suggested Hermione.

Daphne folded her arms across her chest and narrowed her eyes at Hermione. "What do you even know about this guy?"

Hermione huffed with indignation about being grilled by the former Slytherin. "I know he was very helpful with finding my parents. He even volunteered to help me get back to England when much of the travel was closed to magicals."

Daphne sneered at the answer. "Why would someone in law enforcement in Australia help you illegally return to England?"

Hermione gaped in response. "What? Just what are you implying, Greengrass?"

Daphne continued narrowing her eyes at Granger. "I'm implying nothing. I'm just stating the fact that this unknown berk from Australia shows up, with you, and all of the sudden Harry, who has been single handedly fighting this war, disappears coincidentally when some of the terrorists attack."

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "It's Harry now, is it?"

"Yes, it's Harry," snapped Daphne. "And we still don't know anything about this Scott person."

Hermione lifted her chin. "I can vouch for him."

"Then where is he?" demanded Daphne.

Hermione crossed her arms in front of her chest and huffed. "I've had enough of your insinuations. Whatever happened to Harry must have also happened to Scott."

Daphne rolled her eyes. "You've known Harry longer than I have. How would anyone be able to get to him? Particularly when he has even more skill now than when you left."

Hermione's eyes went wide. "What are you talking about?"

Daphne took a deep breath. "He spent the summer training in the States, over in America."

Hermione frowned. "What does that have to do with anything?"

Daphne sighed and shook her head. "You know, I'm beginning to wonder why they call you the most brilliant witch of our generation. You surely don't act like it. Let me explain in simple words: Harry knows more powerful magic than anyone I have ever seen. He doesn't just simply disappear. Not Harry, not now, not with his skill set."

Hermione's arms dropped slack to her side, her cheeks burned, and she glanced around as though she was looking for answers. "Maybe they went to track down the terrorists who disappeared."

Daphne shook her head with a slight laugh. "He wouldn't have done that without telling me first."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Oh, and why is that? What kind of enchantment do you have him under?"

Daphne scoffed. "Remind me again, why were you supposed to be so bright in school?"

A crowd had gathered around them, listening into their argument with great interest. "Dammit," Daphne cursed under her breath. She pulled the hood of her robe over her head and made a quick walk towards Gringotts.

Hermione grabbed her by the arm. "Wait, where are you going?"

Daphne yanked herself free, and hissed, "The public all think I'm dead. They have no idea that Harry rescued me. Whoever set my family up will now start coming after me again. Thank you so much, Granger."

Upon entering the bank, Daphne quickly asked one of the tellers if she could use somewhere to Apparate from, or use a Floo. The goblins quickly conferred, then they agreed to allow her to go to a side room and Apparate.

Hermione stayed right on her heels. "Where do you think you're going, Greengrass?"

"To some place in Surrey," she snapped.

"Are you going to your home?"

Daphne stopped and spun around, almost scorching the witch with her eyes. "Were you not paying attention, Granger? I have no home."

"Then where are you going?"

"My, aren't we persistent." Daphne rolled her eyes. "I said, to some place in Surrey."

Hermione planted herself in front of Daphne, a determined expression on her face. "Well, I'm coming with you!"

"Fine." Daphne reached out, grabbed Hermione, and side-along Apparated her without warning. As they twisted into place behind a building in the park near Privet Drive, Daphne let go of Hermione who ended up stumbling onto her side.

Hermione stood up, dusted herself off, and glared at Daphne.

Daphne ignored her, and walked away from their Apparation spot near the children's play park, making her way down Magnolia Road. She was taking quick strides, forcing Hermione to walk quickly to catch up.

As they reached the road, Hermione stopped in her tracks. "Wait, I know where this is. This is Little Whinging."

"How very observant of you," Daphne snorted. "Top marks to Granger, once again."

Hermione still stared at her, then gasped. "You're heading to Privet Drive. That's where Harry grew up."

"Nothing gets past you, does it, Granger?" Daphne sneered.

Hermione ignored her sarcasm. Her eyes flickered down the street, she shifted her feet and squirmed. "Why in Merlin's name are we heading here?"

Daphne didn't deign her an answer, and continued her walk. She slowed down as they approached Privet Drive, which allowed Hermione to catch up and walk beside her. Daphne put a big smile on her face as they passed a couple of people from the neighbourhood who were out for a walk.

"Why are we going here?" demanded Hermione once again.

"Because this is where we have been staying," Daphne replied with a matter of fact tone.

"You've been staying at 4 Privet Drive?" Hermione gasped, barely above a whisper.

"Yes, we have," said Daphne quietly.

Hermione's jaw dropped, she furrowed her eyebrows and regarded Daphne with a long look. "Wait, you and Harry have been living together?"

Daphne suppressed an exasperated sigh. "I don't see why that's any of your business, but we have been staying in the same house, yes."

They came upon another couple walking down the side of the road. "Hello, good day," greeted Daphne with a smile and a pleasant tone.

Hermione added a quick hello as the couple smiled and greeted Daphne in reply.

They made their way to the garden in the back, and then into the kitchen, Hermione close on Daphne's heels

"But Harry hated it here!" Hermione lamented. "He had awful memories here."

Daphne shook her head slightly as she closed the door behind Hermione. "Which is why he had Kreacher completely change it."

"He did what?" Hermione's jaw dropped at that statement. "What have you done to Harry?" Her tone was demanding and rude.

"I haven't done anything, it's your boyfriend who abducted him," snapped Daphne.

"He is not my boyfriend," protested Hermione.

"Really?" Daphne cocked a disbelieving eyebrow at Hermione..

Hermione chose to ignore Daphne's statement. "And we don't know that he abducted Harry."

"Oh really? Then what else could have happened?" Daphne leaned against the kitchen table, her hands on her hips, and her chin raised in challenge.

Hermione narrowed her eyes at Daphne. "Something isn't right here." She pulled out her wand and pointed it at Daphne.

Daphne's hands dropped to her side. "Really? Are you going to hex me, or what?"

"You're going to tell me what's going on!" Hermione's voice rose in pitch and volume.

"Or what?" Daphne replied, her chin still raised in defiance.

"I'll ... I'll ..." Hermione stuttered, "You just will."

Daphne kept her eyes locked with Hermione's, and she twitched her left arm.

Hermione raised her wand in response and yelled out, 'Stupefy!'

Daphne twisted to her left and had her wand snapped into her right hand. She cast a silent Body Bind Curse before Hermione even realised that Daphne had simply dodged her spell, and the red Stunner soared harmlessly past her.

Hermione gasped, she was entangled in the ropes from Daphne's spell, and dropped her wand.

Daphne put her foot on the wand, and then undid the bindings around the witch.

Granger gaped at her.

"Now, Granger, you can calm down," scolded Daphne.

"How... How did you do that?" Hermione asked with wide eyes and a pale face.

"I've been training with Harry since he rescued me from the attack against my family," replied Daphne simply and quietly.

Hermione stared at her in awe. "I don't get it! I don't get how quick and easy you bested me!" she exclaimed. She narrowed her eyes at Daphne. "But -. Oh my. You've been sleeping together!"

Daphne rolled her eyes. "I don't see why this is any of your business one way or another, but just for your information: we have not been sleeping together, we're just staying in the same house. You can even go upstairs and check out the room arrangements and see for yourself."

Hermione gave her another hard stare, snorted, and then stomped up the stairs and walked around.

Daphne made her way to the living room and sat down, waiting for Hermione to return.

A few minutes later, Hermione came back downstairs and sat across from Daphne. "Fine, you have separate rooms," she acknowledged begrudgingly. She let out a deep breath. "The house, well, it's ... Well, it's just so different."

Daphne shrugged "So, you've been here before? I've only seen it like this. But tell me, Granger, why do Harry's sleeping arrangements all of a sudden matter to you? You never showed any interest in Harry like that."

Hermione took a deep breath. "No, it's not like that. He's always been like a brother to me."

Daphne stopped herself from laughing at the witch sitting across from her. "He's not a little kid anymore, Granger. In case you haven't noticed, he's a man, he can take care of himself. He took out a Dark Lord, and he has been single handedly fighting this current war."

Hermione let out a big sigh. "But why here? Why would he come back here?"

Daphne shrugged her shoulders once again. "I've heard some of the stories, but not all of them. That was why he changed the inside of the house. And it is also why he figured no one would find him here."

Hermione nodded, accepting what Daphne was telling her. "Ok then, so, now what?"

Daphne smiled slightly. "Now, you send a patronus messenger thing, as I assume you can do that, to Croaker, and ask him how we can track Harry."

Hermione couldn't keep the startled look off of her face. "Who is Croaker? You mean the head of the Unspeakables? And why would he be able to help? Why would he help?"

Daphne cut her off. "Stop asking questions and just do it."

Hermione huffed for a moment, and then o cast the patronus charm. She had to try several times before she managed to produce a corporeal patronus and sent it off to relay the message to Croaker.

Daphne raised an eyebrow, "I thought that all of you in Dumbledore's Army all were proficient in the Patronus. At least, that was the rumour that was going around."

Hermione sighed as she admitted, "It wasn't easy for anyone to get proficient at that charm. And yes, I struggled with it for a while. So, no, it's not that easy for me to do."

Daphne gave her a slight smile, "But you did manage to do it just now."

Within five minutes, Saul Croaker had appeared in the living room at 4 Privet Drive.

* * *

LDW - 19.6

* * *

Hubbard paced up and down in front of Harry, staring at his captive. "What am I to do with you, Potter?"

Harry tried to shrug against his restraints. "Well, you could untie me and let me go."

Scott shook his head and laughed.

"Well, it was worth a try, " said Harry.

Scott sat against the small table which held Harry's wand. "Why do you do what you do, Potter?"

Harry tilted his back slightly and gauged the man before he gave a response. "I don't know; why does the sun rise in the east? Why is the sky blue?" He looked at Scott and narrowed his eyes. "Or - why are you a prick?"

Hubbard laughed off the dig by his captive. "No name calling now, Potter. You, of all people should understand what has been going on. You are the hero. You killed the Dark Lord, the leader of the blood purists. They hate you because you're a Halfblood, your mother was a Muggleborn, for Merlin's sake. The Death Eaters hated you and your family. They killed most of your family. They attacked your friends and their families."

Harry snorted at the comments. "And the majority of them were in Azkaban. Where they were simply slaughtered."

Hubbard jumped to his feet. "Slaughtered like the animals that they were. They got what they deserved!"

Harry shook his head. "They deserved justice."

"They received justice!" Scott snapped back.

Harry took a deep breath. "No, not really. They were awaiting their trials. They were there so that they could have justice handed out properly."

Hubbard scoffed again at Harry's response. "No, they walked away time and time again. The system is broken. Your system is broken."

Harry shook his head. "That system was done away with when the war ended."

Hubbard waved away Harry's arguments with a dismissive gesture of his hand. "The dead need to be avenged."

Harry sighed. "Eliminating the Sacred Twenty-Eight, the way your associates have been methodically working on, puts you on the same level as them."

Hubbard glared at the wizard tied up in front of him. "You just don't understand."

Harry again pulled slightly at his binds. Damn, they wouldn't budge. He groaned in frustration. "I understand they manipulated the British non magical government. Which part of that isn't treason?"

Hubbard took up his pacing back and forth in front of Harry once again. "You were not a target. At least not at first. You shouldn't have gotten involved."

Harry took another deep breath. "They killed my friends, the people who were closest to family to me. They attacked even more of my friends, people who may have been Pure-blooded families, but they always were on the side of the light."

Hubbard paused momentarily and glared at Harry. "Those Purebloods were not light. They allowed the other Purebloods to rule, they allowed the tyranny to continue. By not stopping the wars, they are just as guilty."

Harry tilted his head back once again and closed his eyes momentarily. Was it even possible to rationalise with someone as captured in his bigoted worldview as Hubbard? He opened his eyes and looked back at his captor. "They fought in those wars. They had loved ones who died fighting in those wars. Why attack me in my house if you all think I am so great for taking out Riddle?"

"Why?" asked Hubbard rhetorically. "Because you fought for them."

Harry glared at Hubbard. "I protected a friend of mine. Multiple friends of mine."

Scott paced again. "You put the target on your own back, Potter."

Harry shook his head, realising that there was no reasoning with this person in front of him.

Scott stopped in his tracks. He narrowed his eyes and stared at the pendant hanging around Harry's neck.

"What are you staring at?" Harry asked.

Hubbard took a step closer. "Just examining your little trinket." He moved closer to get a better look.

Harry's breath caught. This was his chance to escape, if he played his cards well. He leaned away from the man, but could not really accomplish anything as he was tied securely to the chair. His wrists were tied together so he could not move them, not even enough to try and cast a wand-less spell or to try and undo his binds.

"Don't touch it," he snapped at Hubbard..

Scott straightened a little, and a small smirk appeared on his face.. "Oh, is it so precious to you?"

Good, he was falling for the bait, thought Harry.

"Don't touch it," Harry demanded again.

"Oh, did your little Pureblood princess give this to you? Are those runes on it meant to protect you so you don't get hurt?" Hubbard taunted Harry.

Harry now struggled visibly against his bonds. He almost had the man there. "Don't touch my amulet!"

"Maybe I will!" declared Hubbard with a broad smile. He reached out and grabbed the amulet.

The next second, they both disappeared from the warehouse room.

* * *

LDW - 19.7

* * *

Croaker had listened to Granger and Greengrass explain the events of earlier that morning. He cast a couple of spells on a piece of parchment he had conjured and then had written some runes on it.

"Grab this paper and we will port-key to where he is," Croaker commanded the two witches.

Without thinking anything further, the two women grabbed the parchment, and they all three disappeared.

The trio re-appeared in the middle of a warehouse. The place was mostly empty except for a small table with a wand sitting on it. The floor was dusty, except for a small area where someone had been walking.

"There's no one here," said Granger after looking around the large room.

"That's more than a little obvious," replied Daphne. That witch had a way to state the obvious that was grating on her nerves. Most brilliant witch of their age, Merlin's saggy balls. Until now, the woman had done nothing that suggested she deserved the title.

Croaker looked around, frowning. "This is not making much sense. The Portkey was designed to take us to where the amulet was. They must have been here."

Daphne went over to the table and was about to pick up the wand.

"Don't touch that," ordered Hermione.

Daphne slowly turned to face her. "Why not?" Ignoring the command from Hermione, Daphne turned, picked up the wand and examined it. "This is Harry's wand."

"That's not his holly wand," said Hermione.

Daphne looked at Hermione through narrowed eyes. "Made out of holly or not, it is the wand he has been using."

Hermione raised an eyebrow.

Croaker stepped forward and interjected himself into the little argument. "No matter. Whomever brought him here must have disarmed him. They either detected we were coming, and left, or they activated the amulet itself."

Daphne spun around to face Croaker. "Can't you just track them the same way?"

Croaker smiled slightly. "Yes, and it will take the same amount of time to prepare the spell."

Hermione had a puzzled look. "What amulet are you talking about? Where would it take him?"

Croaker looked up from his work on the parchment. "If Harry had not received a signal, and someone activated the amulet, then it would have most likely taken him to the last place he was summoned."

Hermione's confusion showed on her face. "What do mean, where he was summoned?"

Daphne rolled her eyes at Hermione. "You wait here, I'll be back," she said, and she slipped Harry's wand into her sleeve then she Apparated away.

Hermione stopped herself from screaming. She looked at Croaker with wide open eyes. "Now, where did she go?"

"Probably to the Macmillan estate," said Croaker, casting another spell.

Hermione was irritated by the apparent lack of action on Croaker's part. "What are you doing?"

Croaker ignored her anxiety and continued to work on his spells. "Checking to see if any other magic was used to take them away from here. Unspeakables learn to curb the Gryffindor trait of blindly rushing in to things where only fools dare to tread."

Hermione huffed at the comment. Shaking off her frustration she looked around the large empty room, and then back at the only person with her. "Wait, why didn't you go with Greengrass?"

Croaker sighed heavily, stopped his work and looked at the witch. "As I said, we do not rush in blindly," he said simply. "We need to determine exactly why we are here, and where exactly here is." Croaker sent a patronus messenger, apparently off to one of his colleagues.

Hermione was even more frustrated. She started pacing back forth, not knowing what to do to find Harry and Scott, and not wanting to wait around for Croaker. But she didn't know where the Macmillan estate was located, or even if that was definitely where Daphne had gone.

* * *

LDW - 19.8

* * *

A pair of Aurors arrived at the outskirts of the Chang estate. They sent a message through the wards that they were there. Much to their surprise, the wards had not been reactivated. They walked up to the main entrance and knocked on the door, waiting for a reply in silence.

After a minute, Cho came to the door and opened it slightly. "What can I do for you, gentlemen?"

The Senior Auror spoke first. "The name is Johnson, we're with the DMLE. We need to take another look at the scene where your father was found."

Cho didn't hide the surprise from showing on her face. After a few moments of thinking she replied, "The house elves started cleaning things up after you left and I had thought that you had finished your investigation."

Johnson nodded his head slightly. "Just a couple of things we need to recheck."

Cho narrowed her eyes, opened the door to let the two Aurors enter. "Very well, if you insist, which I assume you will or you wouldn't have taken the time to come all the way out here."

The two Aurors thanked her and followed her into the house, where they were shown to the study where her father had been killed. The scorch marks from the blasting hexes had been removed. The two continued to investigate the room, yet they were unable to detect any ambient magic from the spells that were used at the time Mr. Chang was killed.

Johnson turned to Cho who had followed them into the room. "It is curious, that they attacked with wands, using Blasting Hexes, but then they shot your father with a Muggle weapon."

Cho had a puzzled expression on her face. "And why would that be so unusual? I thought that the reports stated that the terrorists were using both magical and non magical attacks."

Johnson simply shrugged in response to her question. "May we have a look at your wand, Miss Chang?" he asked after a moment.

She stuttered as she replied. "Um, sure, but whatever for?"

Johnson reached out to accept the wand. "We just need to check it for spells, it's all just a matter of procedure."

He took the wand, a dark wood with some unusual twists in the shaft, and cast a spell on the wand. It was revealed that the most recent spells cast were, in reverse order: Apparition, Episkey, Apparition, Muffliato, Apparition, a low level Blasting Hex, and a Shield Spell.

Johnson raised an eyebrow at the last two spells, recalling how he had been forced to knock himself out earlier. "How many people were fighting you and your father?"

Cho looked back and forth between the two Aurors, becoming more concerned about where this conversation was headed. "I'm ... I'm not sure," she said slowly. "Everything happened so fast."

The junior Auror nodded politely. Then asked softly, "But how many were casting spells?"

* * *

LDW - 19.9

* * *

The chair Harry was tied to crashed into the ground as they arrived in the yard of the Macmillan estate. Harry grunted as the chair collapsed and broke under his weight, and he tried to roll out of the bindings that had loosened as the wood they were holding him to had broken apart.

Hubbard, not expecting to be Portkeyed, stumbled backwards and fell over, dropping his wand.

Harry quickly summoned Hubbard's wand and had him bound before he could gather his wits about him. He then used the wand to remove the remaining ties from his arms and legs.

"Where did you take me?" Harry demanded of Hubbard, pointing his own wand at his former captor.

Scott spit at Harry. "That doesn't matter."

"It mattered to you, so now it matters to me," Harry snapped back.

Silence was the only response he received from Hubbard.

Keeping the wand trained on the other wizard, Harry continued to bark questions at him. "You were working with someone, or presumably the terrorists who attacked me and my friends."

Scott laughed at Harry. Then he became indignant. "They are not terrorists. They are merely avenging the countless Muggles and Muggleborns that have been killed by the Pureblood filth. And yet, you defend them, those Pureblood monsters."

Harry had enough of the foolish propaganda. "You know, just repeating the same drivel over and over again is getting more and more irritating. At least come up with some new material once in a while. In the meantime, let me explain some things to you. Tom Riddle was a Halfblood. He fooled his followers. Despotic tyrants usually pick scapegoats to enable their rise to power. Riddle did it. In the Muggle's Second World War, Hitler did it. And your associates are doing it now. Killing people simply because their family are Purebloods is no better than killing people because they have no magic or no history of having magic. All of this revenge will simply lead to very few magicals left, and probably break the Statutes of Secrecy, which could easily lead to the deaths of most, if not all, magicals."

Hubbard shook his head and spat back, "So you defend the killers?"

Harry scoffed at the question. "No, I defend those who need defending. If they have done wrong, bring them to trial."

Hubbard continued with his previous arguments. "The trials that were held after the last war here were a joke."

Harry rubbed his face. "Cold blooded execution of prisoners is not justice. It is a criminal act of cowardice, it is sad, really."

The two faced each other in silence for a minute. Then Harry questioned Hubbard again, "So, where were you taking me? To see Middleton and Barnes?"

Harry detected Scott's eyes widen slightly at the mention of those names. "So you know them. You're working with them." He paused for a moment, but received no further comment or response. "Then why didn't you bring me straight there?"

Hubbard finally decided to respond. "You're not a Pureblood. They wanted me to see if you could be swayed to join their team."

Harry laughed at the question. "Clearly, they know nothing about me."

"They know enough," said Hubbard. "You somehow, unbeknownst to anyone exactly how, managed to survive the Killing Curse as an infant. You seem to survive everything that is thrown at you, from your adventures at school, if those tales were to be believed, to somehow managing to defeat the Dark Lord once and for all. You even survived an attack at your own home. I hear that some men have sworn to never eat soup again after that attack."

"You disgust me," said Harry.

The venom in his voice made Hubbard wince. Having the ire of the man in front of him directed at himself was becoming more and more dangerous by the moment. He decided to remain silent.

"You created a false friendship with my best friend, just so she could lead you to me," said Harry. It was a statement, not a question.

Hubbard didn't react to the accusation.

"I really ought to just leave you here for Hermione to find you. Being betrayed and used like that will not sit well with her," Harry said.

Finally Hubbard responded. "She's just a weak witch who thinks she knows more than others."

Harry laughed at the man. "Keep telling yourself that. Now, if you tell me where your friends are, then I might help you survive meeting up with Hermione."

Hubbard refused to speak.

Harry cast a Detection Spell that revealed an item of magic on the man. Was he hiding a Portkey? Harry carefully picked up the item and cast some Detection Spells on it, all while Hubbard's eyes went wide.

The Detection Spells confirmed that the item was similar to Emergency Portkeys that Staci had shown him. He carefully placed it on the ground next to him, then gathered a handful of small pebbles. He turned away from Hubbard as he cast a spell on them and another spell on a slightly larger rock. He dropped the larger rock into his own pocket, and placed the pebbles in Hubbard's pocket. Harry smiled slightly before he cast a Silencing Charm on the man and recast the bindings on Hubbard, overpowering the spell to make them even more secure.

Hubbard tried to scream at Harry, but no sound came out. With a smirk, Harry activated the Emergency Portkey, waving a cheeky goodbye to Hubbard.

* * *

 _ **Lyrics: © 1988, "Blind", Talking Heads, Naked, written by: Jerry Harrison, Tina Weymouth, Chris Frantz & David Byrne**_

* * *

 **AN: Again, a very special thanks to Dorothea Greengrass for her amazing (and quick) editing and reviewing of this chapter.**


	20. Chapter 20 - Psycho Killer

**LDW - 20**

 _ **"Psycho Killer"**_

 _I can't seem to face up to the facts_

 _I'm tense and nervous and I_

 _Can't relax_

 _I can't sleep 'cause my bed's on fire_

 _Don't touch me I'm a real live wire_

 _Psycho Killer_

 _Qu'est-ce que c'est ?_

 _fa fa fa fa fa fa fa fa fa far better_

 _Run run run run run run run away_

 _Ce que j'ai fait, ce soir-là_

 _Ce qu'elle a dit, ce soir-là_

 _Réalisant mon espoir_

 _Je me lance, vers la gloire ... OK_

 _We are vain and we are blind_

 _I hate people when they're not polite_

* * *

LDW-20.1

* * *

Harry arrived in an alleyway, outside of a large building. He looked around, realising he was next to another warehouse type building. As he explored further, he detected some Muggle Repelling Charms that created a barrier near the entrance. Stencilled on the door was the name of the company that owned the building, Chang Enterprises.

Slowly he made his way to the door and peered over the edge of the window, hoping that no one inside would notice that he was there.

"Hmm, an empty hallway," he said silently to himself. He tried the door handle; to his surprise the door was unlocked. Maybe it had been left that way due to the Muggle Repelling Charms he detected. Well, he wouldn't look a gift horse into the mouth. Harry opened the door, walked inside and found a hallway that led to a pair of double doors. "Here goes nothing," he said to himself, kicked the doors open and ran into the room.

Three men jumped up from where they were sitting on one side of the large room, but before they could grab their rifles, Harry had already stunned them. A couple of familiar red beams of light were shot at him from the far side of the room. Damned, there were more of them, maybe a dozen, in different corners of the room. Harry easily shielded those incoming spells, however, the next second a green flash of light sped towards him from his right. He managed to dodge it by rolling to his left. He sprang back onto his feet immediately, cast a Body Bind Spell at his would be attacker, and placed a shield to his left. Not a second too soon. Several other men ran out from an adjoining room and joined the fray, aiming their guns at Harry. Thankfully, his shield was strong enough to absorb the bullets.

Harry breathed an inward sigh of relief that the wand he took from Hubbard was working so well for him, however, casting such strong spells with a wand not truly aligned to him would not last. He cast a wandless and silent Stunner with his left hand at a man pointing a rifle at him. The red flash of light hit the man square in the chest, and he dropped where he stood.

The slow steady sound of someone clapping their hands made Harry jerk his head around.

"Very good, Mr. Potter. I'm impressed with your skill," said the man who clearly was the leader here.

Harry mentally went through the descriptions he had of the terrorists. This had to be Barnes, the former liaison between the Muggle government and Shacklebolt from the time this whole debacle started on the heels of defeating Voldemort.

"And I'm impressed that you managed to find your way here. I suppose that our colleague from Australia is currently incapacitated. No worries, though. We will deal with his blunders soon enough," Barnes said.

Harry sneered at the man. "So, Barnes, is it? Why don't you just make this easier on yourself and your men, and all of you just drop your wands and weapons now, before I really start to hurt people?"

Barnes laughed at Harry.

Harry turned his head slightly and narrowed his eyes. "I don't see anything funny with my demands."

Barnes' laughter became harder. "Oh, no, you see, I find your thinking that you can make any demands on us to be what is funny. Quite humorous, in fact."

Harry raised his wand and pointed it at Barnes.

Barnes raised an eyebrow at Harry's gesture. "You really ought to drop your wand right now, Mr. Potter."

Harry took a half step back, trying to take in the rest of the room without taking his eyes off of Barnes. "And just why would I do that?"

Barnes smiled menacingly. "Because, if you don't, my associate, Mr. Middleton, will fire a Blasting Hex at point blank range at the young Carrow twins. You wouldn't want to be responsible for the ending of another Pureblood line because you failed to comply with our demands."

At Barnes' last word, Middleton, who had been freed from the magical bindings, removed a magical barrier that had blocked Harry's view of the next room, and revealed two young women sitting in chairs. Middleton had his wand pointed at one of the witches, with the wand tip only a few inches away from her temple.

Damned, Stunners were too good for these bastards. He should have cast overpowered Blasting Hexes at them right from the beginning, and ask questions later, Harry thought with an inward growl of frustration.

"Drop. Your. Wand." demanded Barnes, empathising each word.

Harry placed his hand in his pocket and grabbed the stone he had there.

"Ah, ah, ah, Mr. Potter," said Barnes, his wand still pointed at Harry. "Drop your wand and whatever item you have in your hand."

Harry slowly pulled his hand out of his pocket, and squeezed the stone, before he dropped it on the floor. Then he dropped his wand to his side.

"What did you do?" asked Barnes, motioning for Jonas to grab the wand Harry had just dropped, while Middleton kept his wand pointed at the Carrows.

"I tried to activate an Emergency Portkey," said Harry, allowing his cheeks to blush slightly, "but as I'm still here, obviously it didn't work."

"Jonas, kick the stone over towards me," commanded Barnes.

Jonas did as he was told, and Barnes picked up the stone. He cast a diagnostic charm on the stone, and found nothing.

Barnes let out a loud laugh. "If this was your Emergency Portkey, then you are a fool, Mr. Potter. This is nothing but a simple and non-magical stone." Barnes nodded to Jonas who responded by hitting Harry with a Binding Spell. "Now, secure him to that chair, and we'll just leave him there, in the centre of the room, until we decide just how we shall dispose of him."

The next second, Harry found himself bound to the chair. He briefly tested the bindings holding him; it would be no problem to overcome them wandlessly. However, he didn't forget to shake his head in defeat, and then looked up at Barnes, raising an eyebrow. "I've been wondering, how would you and your team here have ever become connected with Hubbards, when he is from all the way down in Australia?"

Barnes smirked at Harry's question. "Funny thing about Muggleborn wizards. Many of us from around the world have experienced abuse and bigotry and prejudice from these so called Purebloods. What? Did you think that our group trying to force a revolution within the magical world is solely based here in Britain? I thought for sure that the Boy-Who-Lived, the Chosen One, would have been smarter than that. Once you disappeared from England and Scotland, we needed a way to find you. And then your friend, Miss Granger, shows up in Australia, needing help. It was so easy for Hubbard to get her to trust him. After all, he did help her find her parents."

* * *

LDW-20.2

* * *

Daphne arrived at the Macmillan estate. Her eyes fell on Hubbard, lying on the ground, magically bound. A smile crept over her face; she had correctly predicted where to go.

She walked up to the man and pointed her wand at his face. "What in Merlin's name did you do to Harry?" She looked around; there was no trace of Harry. Tilting her head slightly she growled at the man at her feet. "Where the fuck is Harry?" She glared down at the Australian wizard, in vain trying to fight off the feeling of panic that welled up in her.

Hubbard was mouthing some words at her, but no sound was being made.

She groaned at the silent screams directed towards her. Her panic turned into anger directed at the man in front of her, and she yelled at him without even trying to end the Silencing Spell. "Where is Harry? What did you do to him?"

Hubbard's eyes widened as he realised that he was unable to speak or at least unable to be heard. And to make it worse, there was a very angry witch pointing a wand at his face. She looked as if she would hex him mercilessly if he didn't comply to her demand, and he breathed out a sigh of relief when he heard the back to back popping sound of two people apparating to the area. The next second, however, his stomach plummeted, and the blood drained from his face when he saw the two new arrivals. One was a wizard whom he did not recognise; the other one was - Hermione Granger. Seems he just jumped out of the frying pan and right into the fire.

* * *

LDW-20.3

* * *

The Aurors were waiting for a response from the witch who was standing in front of them. The Asian woman started to back up against the wall behind her.

"I really can't say, there were several, at least," she lied. "It was all so scary, with so much happening at once." She continued to speak, allowing tears to trickle down her cheeks. "And then, well, then one of them pulled out a gun, and he started shooting. I screamed, and then I don't remember much else. I must have tried to protect myself with a shield spell at that point, and, well, I must have tried to stun the man with the gun. Then everything went blank." The tears were now streaming down her cheeks as she finished her explanation.

"If they killed your father, why would they have only stunned you?" asked the Junior Auror.

"What? What kind of question is that? I have no idea! Those people are dangerous, they're out to kill anyone. Bloody hell, we're not even part of the Sacred Twenty-Eight!"

The Junior Auror was still holding her wand, and turned to face his partner. "You don't believe her, do you sir?"

"We can always bring her in and give her a dose of Veritaserum," said the Senior Auror as he turned to face his partner.

The two Aurors turned back to face the young witch. The same moment her arm moved quickly and she threw something at them she had hidden behind her. The two Aurors tried to dodge in vain. There was a large flash and an even louder bang; the two Aurors staggered backwards, dropping the wands from their hands in favour of covering their eyes from the bright flash.

Cho, ready for the explosion, easily evaded it, and swooped down to grab her wand which had been dropped by the Auror. She jumped up, spun on the spot, and Disapparated away.

* * *

LDW-20.4

* * *

The sound of the Apparition interrupted Daphne mid-rant. She spun around, her wand at the ready, but relaxed when she recognised the new arrivals. "So, what took you two so long?" she asked, hands on her hips, and a deep scowl on her face. .

Croaker shrugged off her comment. "I just received confirmation that the warehouse we were in is owned by the Chang family business. There are Aurors meeting with her now." He looked at the man lying on the ground, being held still by magical ropes, and then turned his head to Daphne, a faint smirk in his face. "Miss Greengrass, you should probably step away from that man, and perhaps you should also stop your screaming at him."

Hubbard was still trying to speak, but still unable to make a sound.

Croaker again looked from the man to Daphne. "Did you not even try to end the Silencing Spell?" he asked with a disbelieving shake of his head.

Daphne turned red at the implied reprimand and pouted at Croaker. "No, but maybe Granger would like to hear what her boyfriend from Australia has to say for himself."

"He's not my boyfriend!" Hermione said hotly. She frowned down at Hubbard. "Why is he bound?"

Daphne didn't deign her an answer, her eyes still on Croaker.

Croaker gave Daphne a slight smile, turned to Hubbard, pointed his wand at him, and said "Finite."

The alarmed look in Hubbard's eyes gave place to a relaxed one. He took a deep breath and attempted to thank the man, only to find that he still could not make a sound.

Croaker's eyes widened in surprise. Why did his spell not work? "Now, that is unexpected. Let's try again." He snapped his wand, said "Finite" once again, with more authority in his voice, but still Hubbard remained silent.

Hermione looked at the silenced wizard in magical bindings and then back at Croaker. "What's wrong? Why can't he speak?"

Croaker rubbed his chin in thought for a moment. "I overpowered that last spell, which should have removed the magical bindings in addition to allowing the man to speak."

"Then what happened?" asked Hermione.

"Harry happened," said Daphne with a smirk.

Croaker cast several spells, then shrugged. "There may be some sort of magical timer on these spells. And these spells are a little different and have a built in counter to being ended by the Finite Spell. I don't think it will be possible to remove the Silencing Spell nor the magical bindings for at least twenty minutes."

"Obviously, Harry didn't want this idiot to follow him, wherever it is he went," said Daphne with a sense of pride.

Hermione turned to face Hubbard. "What were you thinking? Did you really abduct Harry Potter?"

Hubbard's eyes widened in apprehension as the witch he had used to lead him to Harry Potter started to question him.

Hermione huffed when she remembered that she was not going to get anything more than a nod out of Hubbard in his present state. Daphne's knowing smirk didn't help to improve her mood. Simple questions, she reminded herself, which he could answer with a nod or a shake of his head. "Are you working with the terrorists, the people who have been attacking the Purebloods and the Death Eaters?"

Hubbard lay still, realising that he was helpless to whatever this witch might do to him; he refused to nod yes or to shake his head no, and seal his fate. Instead, he looked to Croaker, pleading with his eyes for him to do something.

Hermione stepped closer to Hubbard, kicked some dirt towards him, and sneered at him. "I know you can hear me; the spell didn't make you deaf. And you're right to fear me, because if you did anything to cause harm to my friend, I will make you pay for it, tenfold!"

Daphne was impressed by the anger in Hermione's eyes, and the intensity in her words. Maybe angering this witch might not be a wise thing, there surely would be some retaliation for her earlier taunts in her future.

There was another pop behind the group, and the three whirled around and pointed their wands at the new arrival, ready to hex first and ask questions later.

A striking woman in a set of black leather battle robes appeared before them.

"And who in Merlin's name are you?" demanded Daphne, her wand at the ready.

The witch put a strand of her long dark hair behind one ear and smiled at them all. "My name is Staci Demetrios. I'm a friend of Harry. And by the way, officially, I am not here."

* * *

LDW-20.5

* * *

Harry sat in the chair, testing the magical bindings periodically. After a few minutes, he let out a laugh.

"What do you think is so funny, Potter?" demanded Barnes.

Harry rolled his eyes, took a deep breath and grinned at Barnes. "Why do the bad guys always tie up the hero the same way? Why are you always so sure that your plans will work? But most of all, why are you hiding out in a smelly old warehouse?"

Barnes cast an overpowered stinging hex at Harry's abdomen.

"Damned, that hurt," thought Harry. He couldn't help to emit a low grunt and gasp momentarily.

"You should not taunt your captors, you foolish boy. You may have defeated a Dark Lord, but that was only because of a prophecy that said that you would." Barnes smirked at Harry. "I could kill you right now, and there is nothing you can do to stop it. So, quit being so smug."

Harry suppressed a laugh at the comments, which wasn't so hard as he was still dealing with the pain in his abdomen. Barnes liked to brag, like all villains. It had also been one of Tom's major weaknesses, the monologue. However, Barnes' hubris worked in his favour. He just had to keep him talking until the others would arrive; they surely wouldn't let him down...

* * *

LDW-20.6

* * *

Daphne raised an eyebrow. "So, you're the yankee witch who trained Harry," she said, her tone indicating that she was impressed with the woman standing in front of her.

"And you seem to be the smart one, you must be Hermione," replied Staci.

Hermione gaped like a fish at the comment.

Daphne shook her head slightly and laughed. "No, I'm Daphne, but Harry and I really only met after he came back from America. I guess I have you to thank for my life, and for everything Harry has been teaching me so that I can avenge my family."

"Well, then, Daphne, I am honoured that I was able to help," said Staci.

Hermione stood up straighter. "That's nice and all, but can you tell us why you're here? Why now?"

Staci raised an eyebrow, turned to Daphne and mouthed the question, "Hermione?"

Daphne responded with a slight nod.

Hermione ignored the little interaction. "It sure seems odd that you would make your way over here now. Particularly as we don't even know where Harry is right now."

Staci put her hands on her hips and stood tall, casting an intimidating shadow over Hermione. "You know, love, I have actually been here, in Jolly Old England, keeping an eye on things on behalf of my employer, unofficially of course, for a little bit. But when I discovered that Harry had disappeared, I decided that now is when I needed to get involved."

"And just how did you discover this?" demanded Hermione.

Staci ignored the question and turned to Croaker. "So, I take it you're one of these Unspeakables."

Croaker nodded slightly, "We've known you have been here, unofficially of course. Do you have anything in specific to offer at this time?"

Hermione crossed her arms and huffed silently at being dismissed by these two self important magicals.

Staci ignored the gesturing of the witch, and simply spoke to Croaker. "Did Harry leave anything behind?"

Before anyone could answer, she pointed at Hubbard. "Oh, and I presume Harry left this one bound like this?"

"Yes, maybe, although we're not sure," stated Hermione, forcing her way back into the conversation.

"Who is he?" Staci asked Croaker.

Croaker turned his head slightly to Daphne, deferring to her to answer.

"This is Mister Scott Hubbard, reportedly of the Australian DMLE," said Daphne before Hermione managed to speak. "He apparently assisted Hermione Granger, here, in returning to England, after he had helped her recover her parents, or something like that. He is the one responsible for Harry going missing. And Harry, I presume, is the one responsible for his bonds and his silence." Then she added with a broad smile, "Perhaps you might know a thing or two about magical bindings and Silencing Spells that are resistant to simple Finite Charms and puzzling the local professionals?"

* * *

LDW-20.7

* * *

Cho Chang arrived in an alleyway next to a large warehouse. She made her way to the door, slamming it open as she entered. Walking up to the double doors to the main room, she kicked those open as well.

A couple of men jumped up, and one shot a stunning spell at her. Cho quickly put up a shield to deflect the spell and sneered at the wizard, "Please, I've dealt with worse before." She smiled at the man slightly. "If I wasn't so pleased to see you respond so quickly, I'd have your head for attacking me."

Cho then called out to Barnes who had come out from his office at the sound of the door being kicked open. He was confused to see her there, "What? Why are you here?"

"The damn Aurors showed up at my home. They have connected my father's wand to the attack on Draco." She nearly screamed. "Besides, since my family has been financing much of your operation, particularly with providing you and your group multiple places to stay, I really don't think that you are in a position to question me."

Cho was making her way across the room towards Barnes when she suddenly stopped as she noted Harry tied to a chair.

Cho stared at Harry in silence for a moment before turning back to Barnes. "What? Well, it seems that Hubbard came through and delivered us Potter after all?"

"Not exactly," Barnes began to explain.

Cho walked over to Harry and stood in front of him.

Harry simply raised an eyebrow, trying to hide his surprise in seeing her, of all people, show up.

"Didn't expect to see me, did you, Harry?" she said overly sweetly.

Harry chose not to respond to her, and not to mention that he saw her family name on the entryway.

"You know, all of this could be in part blamed on you," Cho said as she spread out her arms.

Harry stayed silent, but tilted his head, his expression showing he was questioning her statement.

Cho ignored his gesture, and scowled at Harry. "You so wanted to take me to the Yule Ball, back during that damned tournament," she said as she slowly walked in front of him, keeping her eyes focused on him. "But too bad for you, I already had a date. A date with my boyfriend. You remember him? Cedric? You know, it took me a while to fully realise that yes, you killed him. Oh, calm yourself, Harry, I believed your story that Voldemort commanded someone else to actually send the Killing Curse at him, in fact, I still believe that. And I believed you when you told me all about that night, with tears in your eyes, about how you felt so guilty. But why the fuck was Cedric even there in that damned graveyard? Because of you, and your nobility. You wanted it to be a Hogwarts victory. But you were never the Hogwarts champion. If it weren't for you, there would have been no fourth champion, there would have been no Portkey to the graveyard, and there would have been no one yelling 'Kill the spare!' So, yes, the damned Death Eaters took away my Cedric. And the damned Purebloods thought my family wasn't good enough. But Merlin and the Death Eaters be damned, my family is magical going back over 1400 years in China! We've had magic longer than most Pureblood families can trace their ancestries."

She stopped and glared at Harry. "But you, Harry, you took away the man I loved. Maybe I should take something away from you!"

"Your friends already killed all of the Weasleys," said Harry quietly, trying not to antagonise the witch with the crazed look in her eyes.

Cho ambled towards Harry, smirked at him, leaned forward, and kissed him hard on the lips. "Oh, I'm sure I can do so much more than that. But you'll probably never know." She stood up and licked her lips. Turning to Barnes she asked, "Do you have his wand?"

"Jonas took it," he said simply.

She turned to Jonas. "Would you mind terribly giving it to me? I can make some good use of it," she said with a wink.

Jonas laughed slightly as he tossed her the wand. "Sure, have fun with it," he said with a smile.

Cho tapped the end of the wand against her mouth, "Where to start, causing mayhem with the Boy-Who-Lived's wand?" Her eyes lit up. "Keep him alive for a couple of hours, that will give me some time to wreck a little havoc with the Chosen One's precious. I'll be sure to leave his wand lying around somewhere, so it can be traced to the spells it will soon cast!"

Cho turned back to Harry and made a pouty face. "Oh, don't worry, Harry, love, we'll make sure people know exactly what your little wand here has done before the day is through." She blew him a kiss and apparated away.

* * *

LDW-20.8

* * *

Staci smiled and cast a spell at the man who was tied up. Once the spell hit him, Scott's continued movement of his mouth suddenly began emitting sound.

"That fucking bastard, I'm going to kill him when I get my hands on him, if Barnes and the others haven't killed him already!" he called out, then turned beet red when he realised he had just shouted out those words and everyone had heard him. Scott managed to wriggle himself into a sitting position as he tried to scoot away from the group that was staring intently at him.

Daphne pointed her wand at Hubbard. "So, you are working with the terrorists," she said and did not hide her glare from Hermione.

"You... You used me!" exclaimed Hermione as she walked over to the man who was sitting on the ground, still bound but trying to slide away, and slapped him hard across the face.

"That just might leave a mark," remarked Staci.

Croaker added, "We can always choose to make it permanent."

Staci turned to Croaker and laughed, "I think I'm really going to like you."

"What did you do to Harry?" asked Hermione, her face red with fury.

"All I did was question him, then he left on his own," said Hubbard, giving a very much abbreviated account of what happened.

* * *

LDW-20.9

* * *

Cho arrived at another warehouse, appearing in a small office. The room was empty, and she double checked that it was secure. She cast a quick detection charm; there were two men from the ministry in the main part of the warehouse, although she didn't think that they were from the DMLE. The two appeared to be engaged in some sort of investigation, examining things around the main room.

Cho looked around the office and found the there was an intercom that allowed someone in the office to listen to what was going on in the warehouse, or speak to whoever was in the warehouse. She kept herself below the window from the office so that the two men wouldn't see her, as she carefully switched the speaker system on, allowing her to hear the men's conversation.

"So, Croaker and the others went after Potter and the Australian," said one as he was casting spells on a pile of boxes in one corner.

The other replied, "Apparently, for some reason they went back to the Macmillan place, the one that was attacked the other day." He cast a spell at another pile of boxes and then shrugged. "I'm not finding anything over here."

"Me neither," said the first. "Seems Chang cleared this place out pretty good, not much sign of use other than what ever happened over by the table there."

Cho snorted in response to hearing that Harry and Hubbard had gone to the Macmillan estate. "Maybe that's where I can find someone."

However, she was not aware that the speaker was set for two way communication.

"Who's there?" called out the first wizard.

Both men pulled out their wands.

Cho jumped up, and in rapid succession fired a Blasting Hex at the window, and an overpowered Cutting Curse through the window.

Broken glass flew towards the men. The first cast a Shield Spell, but the second cast a Blasting Hex in response.

Cho dodged the Blasting Hex, ran to an area that was not readily visible from through the now shattered window, and she Apparated away.

The wizard who fired the Blasting Hex screamed in pain as he was hit by a series of glass shards and the Cutting Curse in short succession. His partner quickly cast Healing Spells on the large gashes. He looked towards the now vacated office, cursed under his breath, grabbed his partner and Apparated them both directly to St. Mungo's.

Realising that she may not have much time, as she had already escaped the DMLE once, Cho made her way to Diagon Alley, where she appeared in an alleyway near the Leaky Cauldron on the Muggle side. She used a glamour charm on herself and headed into the magical pub, from where she made her way directly towards Gringotts. She stepped up to speak with one of the tellers and demanded that she see her family's account manager immediately. A minute later she was being escorted down a long hallway to an office. Cho didn't react to the loss of her glamour as she made her way down the hall. The goblins needed to know who she was so she could withdraw some funds, and as long as she hadn't committed any crimes against the goblins, they would not turn her over to the DMLE.

Her account manager was surprised at her sudden request for a large sum of Galleons, and even more so when she didn't even haggle over the cost of the banker's pouch which had expansion charms as well as a featherlight charm.

Cho smiled to herself as she made her way out of the bank, and quickly found an Apparition point.

* * *

LDW-20.10

* * *

Staci had a smirk on her face as she listened to the whining of Hubbard. "So, you managed to abduct Harry Potter, he managed to get away, and leave you bound and silenced in a way that the average witch or wizard could not even undo." Her words were clearly not a question.

Hubbard looked up at the woman and nodded silently.

"He just took your wand and left," she continued, her eyes boring into his.

Hubbard nodded hesitantly. "Well, he took my Portkey and he disappeared."

Staci squatted down in front of him, "Did he now? Where exactly did this Portkey take him?"

"I have no idea, really, just the place where all of them are staying, where they've been hiding out," he answered, his eyes wide as he wondered just why he was telling her everything.

Staci reached out and patted him on the chest as she stated, "Relax, everything will be okay. For you. That is if we actually recover Harry and he is fine."

She raised an eyebrow as she realised her hand hit something on his chest. She reached into a pocket there and pulled out a dozen small stones.

Hermione looked at the stones and scrunched her forehead, "What are those stones and why does he have them?"

Staci examined the handful of stones silently.

Croaker spoke up next. "Are those what I think they are?"

Staci then looked around at the others as she asked, "How many more people can we get to help us on very short notice?"

"I'm sure we can summon several people to come help us," said Daphne.

Croaker agreed, "I can contact my office and arrange for several Aurors to join us."

Hermione looked from Staci to Croaker. "What is it with those little pebbles?"

"Pebbles?" Staci laughed. "These are special Tracking Stones, designed to work like a Portkey tied into one particular stone, which I presume Harry has with him."

"A way to bring in help," exclaimed Daphne, clearly relieved.

"But there is no magic in those stones," protested Hermione. "I checked him before you walked over to him. He had nothing magical on his person, just the spells holding him in place."

Staci shook her head and smirked at the young witch. "MACUSA special ops trade secret, which I happened to have shared with Harry when I was training him."

Several messages were sent out by Patronus after this, and soon the group was joined by Fleur, Neville and Hannah. Two Aurors joined them as well.

Croaker called the Aurors over and asked them for an update on what they had learned by examining the warehouse. He was told that there was an attack at the warehouse where they had tracked Potter and Hubbard to, but whoever that person was had managed to escape.

Croaker groaned slightly. "That was a Chang family warehouse that we had tracked Harry and this jerk to earlier." Looking at the others in the group he added, "Probably another Chang property is being used as their base."

Staci nodded in agreement.

"So, how do we get there?" asked Neville.

Staci held out the collection of pebbles. "These are like mini Portkeys. They will bring us to where Harry is, or at least, to wherever the matching stone is located."

Hubbard looked at the group from where he was still bound and sitting on the ground and he scoffed. "The idiot is probably dead already. He took my Portkey and left to go attack the entire group on his own, the fool."

Daphne sent an overpowered Stinging Hex at the man's privates. "You better hope he is alive when we find him, or I'll be coming back and you'll be suffering worse."

The man moaned in pain, unable to make a verbal reply.

All males present winced at the sight in front of them.

Staci held out the pebbles and said, "Everyone should take one, well, not everyone. We need a volunteer to stay behind and keep an eye on this fool."

Hermione shifted on her feet. She briefly struggled with the idea that she wanted to go and find Harry and help rescue him, if he even needed rescuing, but she felt she owed it to Harry to keep an eye on Hubbard. Finally admitting to herself that Scott had betrayed her and Harry, she spoke up. "I'll keep an eye on him. He is the one who used me to get to Harry. None of you should have to watch the jerk who betrayed me and Harry. It's my fault we're in this position."

"All right, everybody," Staci said as she handed out the stones. "Let's all form a circle, facing outwards. Hold the stone on your off hand, and have your wand ready in your usual casting hand."

She waited a moment for everyone to do as she had instructed, and continued. "Now, be prepared to cast as soon as we appear. Overpowered stunners are fine to start with, no one gets hurt bad with that. If it all goes pear shaped, we can cast more serious spells. Remember, if Harry is where we suspect he is, he will be with the group of terrorists that have been ravaging your homes and your people for months."

"Once you're ready, let me know," she added.

Neville, Hannah, Fleur and Daphne all said that they were ready. Croaker and the two Aurors also acknowledged they were ready.

Staci continued, "Now, on the count of three, pinch that stone between your fingers really hard. One, two three!"

The group of eight disappeared, leaving Hermione alone with Scott. She conjured a chair and positioned herself to keep an eye on the former Auror from Australia.

* * *

LDW-20.11

* * *

Robards was not happy with the news he had just received. First, Cho Chang had managed to escape from the Aurors sent to her home. Then someone attacked the Aurors completing the investigation at a warehouse owed by the Chang family. He was pretty sure his hunch that it was also the young Miss Chang would prove to be correct. He just hoped the two Aurors who he sent with Croaker would have better news to report back to him.

He reviewed the report on Miss Chang one more time, and noted that she had been seen the previous day with Draco Malfoy. The same Draco Malfoy who had been attacked by her own father, shortly before someone killed Mr. Chang.

The head of the DMLE was sure there had to be more of a connection, and he realised he had seen the young Malfoy walking through the halls of the Ministry of Magic earlier this day. He sent a message to his secretary, requesting wherever the young Malfoy was that the brought to his office as soon as possible.

Ten minutes later, an obviously irritated Draco Malfoy was led into the director's office.

"What is the meaning of this?"Draco sneered as the Auror roughly shoved him into a chair.

Robards dismissed the Auror and sat on the edge of his desk. "Just a few simple questions for you, Mr. Malfoy."

Draco rubbed his arm where he had been grabbed. "Questions? What kind of questions?"

"We'll start with a simple one," said Robards. "Where were you last night?"

Draco's answer was curt. "I was at my flat, there's nothing wrong with that."

"Were you alone? Was anyone with you?"

Draco tilted his head slightly as he stared hard at his interrogator. "Yeah, someone was with me. What is that to the DMLE?"

Robards let a thin smile appear on his face. "Who were you with, Mr. Malfoy?"

"What is that to the DMLE?" snapped Draco as he shifted slightly in his seat.

"Who were you with?" repeated Robards.

"I was with a lady friend," Draco said, narrowing his eyes.

"Who was this lady friend?" asked Robards.

Draco took a deep breath and sighed. "Persistent, are you? It was Cho Chang, if you must know. We had bumped into each other at Gringotts. What does this have to do with anything?"

Robards nodded slightly at the confirmation of his being with Miss Chang. "What is the nature of your relationship with Miss Chang?"

"What? What in Merlin's name does this have to do with anything?" snapped Draco.

"Just answer the question," stated Robards calmly.

"Am I in trouble for anything?"

"Anything? That's a fairly broad question. There is your various activities form when you were a student," said Robards.

"I didn't know Chang when I was a student," said Draco, trying to figure out the line of questioning.

"No, it wouldn't seem that you would, she wasn't in Slytherin house, was she," said Robards.

Draco sighed and rubbed his hand through his long blonde hair. "So, what if I was with Chang? She's not unattractive. Sometimes a guy just wants an easy time."

Robards raised an eyebrow slightly. "How long have you been seeing Miss Chang?"

"Seeing her? What? No, like I said, we bumped into each other, literally, at Gringotts. We then ran into each other and decided to have a meal together. She came back to my place. Yeah, she spent the night. There is nothing criminal with that. She was still in bed when I got up and made my way here this morning," Draco admitted in one long breath.

"So, you have no idea where she is now, or what she had planned for today?"

"All I know is that we planned on meeting back at my flat tonight for dinner," said Draco, who was feeling more tense.

Robards called in a couple of Aurors and gave them some orders. "Fitzwilliam, you take Mr. Malfoy to one of our nice conference rooms. Get him whatever he asks for. He'll be staying here until we have more answers about Chang. Bingley, you take a couple of men and check out Mr. Malfoy's flat. It is possible that Miss Chang might be making her way back there today. Or not. Oh, and Bingley, Miss Chang's father is the one who attacked Mr. Malfoy. She also is wanted for further questioning in regards to the death of her father. And she escaped from two Aurors questioning her earlier at her home. She is considered a fugitive and dangerous."

Draco's eyes were wide and his mouth hung open as Fitzwilliam led him out of Robards' office. "What the hell is going on?" he demanded.

"I'll be by to give you an update, Mr. Malfoy, as soon as we have more information. But for now, you're staying here, for your own protection," said Robards.

* * *

LDW-20.12

* * *

There was no sound as the group of eight witches and wizards arrived in their circular formation in the middle of a warehouse. The first sound came from the Stunners hitting surprised men who collapsed unceremoniously onto the floor. The next sounds were feet moving as men ran to get weapons, voices screaming out to attack, and a few people firing off spells.

Staci cast a large shield spell over the group, designed to protect them from Muggle weapon attacks.

Somewhere from in the middle of the circle came an exasperated cry of "It's about damned time!"

Croaker commanded the Aurors with him to take out those holding wands with extreme prejudice. "I don't care what spells you use, make sure that they aren't able to cast spells or get back up!"

There were glows of red light that came flying in towards the group which bounced off of Staci's shield. "Take out the non magicals first," she commanded.

* * *

LDW-20.13

* * *

Cho Chang called for her house elf from a copse of trees not too far from her family's estate that made a good hiding place. The house elf was initially upset. "Mistress Chang, you are okay! We were worried when those wizards came and tried to take you away!"

"Everything's okay, little Jingling," said Cho, trying to calm the elf down. "Can you do me a favour? Are you able to take me to the Macmillan estate?"

"Of course," replied Jingling. "I can be doing that easy!"

"Oh, wait," said Cho, holding a hand up, ordering her elf to not act just yet. "Can you first tell me if there is anyone there?"

There was an almost imperceptible pop as Jingling disappeared. Only a brief moment later the house elf reappeared. "There is a witch holding a wizard captive there! Oh my!"

Cho reached out to comfort the elf. "That's okay, Jingling, I will go take care of the problem. I just need you to bring me there. Bring me somewhere that no one will see me. Then you can return home, and don't tell anyone where you took me. I'll make sure the wizard is okay."

Jingling smiled broadly, her eyes bulged bigger and her ears seemed to flop with excitement. "Oh, thank you Miss Cho. Thank you! I can take you somewhere safe, beside the house."

With a nearly silent pop Cho appeared at the edge of the manor house, and Jingling pointed to where the witch was holding the wizard captive.

Cho noticed that there was indeed a witch sitting in a chair, holding a wand, and a wizard seated on the ground, apparently held by magical bindings. "Thanks so much, Jingling. Now, you can head back home,"said Cho. "I don't want you to get hurt if there are any stray spells when I go take care of this little problem."

Jingling smiled at her mistress and then she disappeared.

* * *

LDW-20.14

* * *

Harry used the opportunity of the battle raging around him to cast wandless magic and break the bonds that held him to the chair. Finally successful, he stood up, just as one of the Aurors in front of him was hit by a Blasting Hex. Harry lost no time and sent a wandless Blasting Hex through the newly formed hole in the circle of people around him - and was rewarded by a loud cry of pain as someone was knocked back into a wall by the impact of his hex.

Croaker had taken out two men who had lifted up rifles to attack them, and the other Auror had already taken out another. The group was not sure how many people to expect, and no one had time to count as their battle continued.

However, the four magic users among the group were attacking hard. Barnes and Middleton were both using overpowered Blasting Hexes as well as Cutting Curses. Jonas and Smythe were each alternating between Blasting Hexes and Bone Breakers.

A few more men had shouldered rifles. The rounds continued to bounce off of Staci's shield, which was now starting to shimmer with each successive hit. Harry rolled out from the middle of the circle and cast a spell that hit two men who fell to the ground as though they were being knocked over by a battering ram.

Neville saw the attack coming from Harry out of the corner of his eye, but as he did so a spell shot past him, clipping Hannah in her leg. She fell to the ground, screaming, a gash appeared on her leg, and blood started to flow. Neville sent a spell in the direction from where the spell that had missed him but had wounded Hannah had originated. A cry of pain and a sickening crush following told him the offender had been taken out, and he felt safe to check on his girlfriend.

Daphne had taken out three would-be assailants with a combination of Stunners and Blasting Hexes. As she heard Harry getting involved in the battle, a huge weight seemed to be lifted from her shoulders, followed by a wave of anger. He was lucky he was okay so she wouldn't have to hurt him more for his stupidity.

Fleur was also busy casting spells and had taken out several men on her own. A spell clipped her side, enraging the part-Veela, and causing her to change into her Veela form. The next second she threw out fireballs at the group she was facing. Loud screams of pain and fear echoed through the warehouse.

The non magicals were dropping quickly from the surprise attacks, and Staci lowered her shield that would stop the bullets, and prepared to enter the battle with the wizards.

Smythe had been taken out by Harry's response to the attack that levelled the Auror. Neville had incapacitated Jonas with his response to Hannah's injury.

Middleton realised that they were in big trouble. The fight was not going their way. Out of desperation he turned to using the most dangerous spells he could recall. "Avada Kedavra!" he called out. A bright green light shot out from his wand, rapidly approaching Daphne.

Time seemed to slow down for Harry as he turned and and summoned Daphne towards him - but his outstretched hand did not send forth any magic. His eyes widened and he screamed "No!" as the deadly light travelled towards his girlfriend.

Staci saw the sickly green spell hurtling towards the blonde woman. She hastily summoned the chair that Harry had previously been tied to, raising her wand hand high up in the air to pull the chair towards it and not just have it be dragged across the floor. The green bolt of light hit the chair, which shattered and sent dozens of wooden shards sailing in all directions.

* * *

 **AN: yes, I am stopping the chapter here…cursed cliff-hanger…**

 **And once again, a very big thanks to Dorothea Greengrass for all of her editing and suggestions, whose English as a second language is much better than my own, as a first (and only language). She even managed to help with editing while on vacation in Italy.**

 _ **Lyrics: © 1977, "Psycho Killer", Talking Heads, Talking Heads 77, written by: Tina Weymouth, Chris Frantz & David Byrne**_


	21. Chapter 21 - Eyes Wide Open

**LDW - 21**

* * *

 _ **Eyes Wide Open**_

 _ **(Big Blue Plymouth)**_

 _There is nothing that is stronger than the feeling that you get_

 _When your eyes are wide open_

 _There is nothing like the feeling, you can never forget_

 _When your eyes are wide open_

 _Daytime was a feeling but it's not over yet_

 _Are my eyes still open?_

 _We come a long long distance and we're never goin' back_

 _Got my eyes wide open_

* * *

21.1

* * *

A green light flashed through the room; Staci summoned a chair, and the Killing Curse impacted on it, causing the chair to explode in midair. Wooden shards flew across the room; people screamed in pain. Hannah had gone down with a wound to her leg and threw herself around just in time so that the shards ended up hitting her in her back instead of in her face. Neville put up a shield against most of the shards that came his way, although he didn't escape all, and a few pierced his right forearm.

Croaker batted away the shards coming towards him with a spell from his off hand.

Fleur had transformed into her Veela form the moment the chair exploded, and the shards bounced off her feathers. She let out a feral scream and directed a barrage of fireballs at the source of the green light.

Barnes bared his teeth and reciprocated with a volley of dark spells, and Croaker spun around and placed a shield to protect the group's backside.

Harry dove to the floor, a few wooden shards imbedded in various parts of his body, and he winced in pain. Beside him, Daphne collapsed, several large wooden shards piercing her abdomen and chest.

'Daphne!' he shouted and moved towards her.

A large orange blast of flames shot out from Barnes' wand, and Harry threw himself back.

'Fiendfyre! The bastard conjured Fiendfyre!' Croaker roared over the din of the battle.

A grim smile appeared on Barnes' lips. Hah, the group would be hard pressed to control the raging inferno he had just unleashed. That would buy him enough time. He hissed a final command to the wolf shaped ball of flame, then disapparated in a hasty retreat.

Croaker reacted first to the cursed flames and called out the flame-freezing charm, which slowed down the flames. To everyone's relief the heat the flames were producing also decreased.

"Partis temporus," Staci shouted. The middle portion of the flame spun away.

Harry crawled back to Daphne's side and pulled her into his arms. His eyes darted over the pieces of wood sticking out of her body. He hesitated, then reached a hand out to one of the pieces of wood, his brow furrowed with worry.

"Stop! Don't touch the pieces of wood! "

Hannah's shout made him jump, and he pulled his hand away.

"They should only be removed by a team of healers," Hannah added in a lower tone. 'You never know if they didn't scratch a major artery, such as to the kidneys or the legs, or the aorta itself. In that case Daphne would bleed to death if you removed them."

Daphne looked at Harry, her eyes blinked at him, as if she was trying to convey a message, then she slumped in his arms, unconscious. Harry cradled Daphne in his lap; his blazing eyes turned to look for the one who had cast the spell at his girlfriend.

"Don't worry, Potter, the Veela's fireballs took him out. He won't be hurting anyone anymore," the Auror said with a knowing look at Harry, and jerked his chin towards a corner of the room where the charred remains of a human body lay on the floor.

Harry's nostrils flared at the bile-raising smell of burnt human flesh. Other than that he showed no emotions. 'Good!' he said with clenched teeth.

Fleur changed back into her human form and looked at Harry and Daphne. "We need to get these two to St. Mungo's quickly," she said.

Neville nodded in agreement. "Several of us need attention there, but those flames need to be controlled before we dare try and make our way there."

Staci snarled at him. "Already working on it, young man."

Between Staci and Croaker, the magical raging fire was soon under control.

Supported by Neville, who ignored the pain from his own injuries, Hannah made her way over to Harry and Daphne's side. She cast a quick charm over Daphne.

Harry raised an eyebrow. 'I hope you know what you're doing.'

Hannah rolled her eyes at him, "Don't worry, I do. This was just a simple diagnostic charm that won't hurt her. I did spend some time mentoring with Madame Pomfrey in the infirmary over my time at school." She turned back to her spell work. A couple of runes appeared above Daphne's body, and Hannah studied them with a frown on her face. "Nothing is critical, but she does have some internal injuries and will need the care of a fully trained healer."

At her verdict, Harry let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding, and cradled Daphne closer to his chest.

Croaker immediately ordered the Aurors to return with a healer from St. Mungo's. Then he and Staci surveyed the warehouse.

Middleton lay near one side of the room, his body partially burned; there was no sign of life on his severely injured body. Jonas was close by; he had had more luck: an overpowered spell from Neville had knocked him unconscious.

Harry's blasting hex had thrown Smyth back against the corner of one of the doorways. There was an open wound to the back of his head. Hannah waved her wand across his body. No runes appeared, and she shook her head at Croaker.

The Muggle team members were either knocked unconscious or had significant injuries from the seriousness of the magical attacks. Several of them had serious injuries including broken bones or open wounds. Croaker cast simple spells to at least bandage their wounds.

The head of the Unspeakables surveyed the wreckage of the warehouse, specifically the numerous injuries that were sustained by the former MI-13 team members, and shook his head. "Dumbledore would have been sorely upset at the use of spells beyond stunners to subdue this crowd."

Neville opened his mouth as if to protest his comment, but Croaker waved him off. "Don't get me wrong, Mister Longbottom, I'm not in agreement with the former headmaster and Chief Warlock. Being a pacifist when faced with aggression and hatred would have only led to many more deaths on our side. No, force that overpowered their force was all that matters in such battles as this one."

"But some of these men have been killed," said Fleur. Her eyes were dark. She had taken the life of more than one person today.

"Yes, but would you rather have lost some of your friends? Have you not lost too much already? Have we not all lost too much already?" Croaker let his words sink in. "Notify the Minister of Magic, he needs to get the Muggle authorities in here right away. Let them deal with the injured and the captured terrorists. They started this all with their revenge tactics."

Soon, Aurors and healers were arriving.

Harry spoke to Croaker. "Daphne - most people have no idea that she's even alive. They all assume she was killed in one of the raids by these terrorists. Can we just have the healers show up?"

Croaker smiled thinly at Harry. "The threats against her and others of the Sacred Twenty-Eight have apparently been silenced. Their teams have been reduced to one survivor. Yes, he escaped, but we will track him down."

Harry nodded in understanding. "Can I go with her? To St. Mungo's, that is."

Croaker looked at the injured as the healers were evaluating everyone. "They are all in good hands, Potter. We still have some loose ends to deal with. A couple of people to find. You would only get in the way of the healers. Let them do their job while we finish ours."

Harry rubbed the back of his neck as he considered Croaker's words. "You are right, we need... I need to finish this. But, I need to know, to be sure, that Daphne, that all of them, will be alright. We'll find them, but we need to care for our own first."

Croaker gave a resigned sigh and nodded his consent.

Daphne, Hannah and Neville were all evaluated by the healers and then quickly transported to St. Mungo's, as was the Auror who had been severely injured during the confrontation. Croaker grabbed Harry's arm and took him by side along apparition to St. Mungo's.

* * *

21.2

* * *

 _Have I been dreaming, or have I been sick?_

 _Are my eyes wide open?_

 _Do I do it like that, or do I do it like this?_

 _Are my eyes wide open?_

 _Wearing' out the carpet doin' tricks with her hands_

 _She's got her eyes wide open?_

 _Think about this, "well I already have."_

Cho Chang inched towards where Hermione was standing guard over Hubbard. The bushy-haired Know-It-All was possibly aware of her own involvement in everything that had been happening, so she needed to be cautious.

A stick snapped under Cho's foot. Damn!

Hermione spun around.

Wand already in her hand, Cho cast an incarcerous spell, and had Hermione bound in magical ropes the next second.

'You bitch!' Hermione screamed at her captor.

Cho ambled up to the witch. "Oh, what do we have here?" she asked in a mocking tone. "Little miss perfect Granger, always the best in school, for once caught off guard. And who do you have with you, but some agent working with Barnes and Middleton. Well, this won't do, no not at all." She snapped out the wand she had taken from Harry and directed it at Hubbard.

His eyes became wide, and he opened his mouth.

Cho sneered at him. 'Avada Kedavra.'

The green flash struck him in the chest, and his lifeless eyes stared up into nothingness.

Hermione trembled, she stared at Cho with eyes that showed the white in them. 'No...No, no, you can't do that…'

Cho dropped the wand she had taken from Harry and smiled at Hermione. "Oh, no, I won't be so kind to you." She gave Hermione a predatory smile. "No, I have something special planned for you." Her smile deepened.

A shudder went through Hermione's body, and she gulped.

Cho pulled out her own wand and pointed it at Hermione. "Imperio!" she said in a calm and clear voice.

A minute later, all was left was the echo of Cho's Apparition, and a bound witch next to a dead body.

* * *

21.3

* * *

 _In another time_

 _In another place_

 _There's a train running through_

 _Right through the middle of the house_

Bingley and his team of Aurors arrived at Draco Malfoy's flat. As the lead Auror, he cast Homenum Revelio, and breathed out when the spell showed no evidence of anyone being in the apartment. A special DMLE unlocking spell opened the door, and they entered the flat.

The two wizards and the one witch who had accompanied him filed into the apartment behind him. In spite of the apartment being deserted, their progress was slow, and they cast magical detection charms at everything. The charms didn't come up with anything that was out of the ordinary for a wizard's home.

Bingley cast his Patronus. "Go to Robards, let him know everything seems to be in order. There's no evidence of Chang, and we've found no evidence of any magical traps."

A couple of minutes later, a return Patronus Messenger arrived from Robards. "Did you even check for any Muggle weapons or problems?" The voice of the Head Auror sounded annoyed.

Bingley sighed and considered the new request from his supervisor. Robards was right, they had to expect anything from Chang. He turned to his team, "Just have another look around the apartment, look for anything that might be of Muggle origin."

His subordinates nodded.

'I'll take the bedroom,' Williams said, and turned around.

'I'll start with the hallway.' McCormick already reached out to the knob of the hallway closet.

'That leaves me with the kitchen, I guess,' Knight said. 'Let's hope Malfoy isn't a slob. I hate grabbing into something mouldy.' He turned around and walked towards the kitchen.

In Malfoy's bedroom, Williams crawled on the floor and looked under the bed, casting a lumos charm to help him see better. A few dust bunnies assaulted his nose, and he sneezed.

McCormick searched through a closet in the hallway, opening boxes and tossing them to the side. "Nothing here beside clothes and some old parchments," she announced over her shoulder.

In the kitchen, Knight opened cabinets and drawers which contained the customary kitchen supplies. "Nothing out of the ordinary here, either," he shouted back towards the hallway. He was about to leave the room, when as an afterthought he bent down and looked under the sink.

There was a small clock with some wires attached to what appeared to be some pink clay. He frowned. "Now, what's that?' He grabbed the clock and pulled it and the wires out of the pink clay.

A white, blinding light was the last thing he saw.

A fireball erupted in the kitchen, the deafening bang of an explosion followed, together with the noise of shattering glass and debris falling down.

The shockwave threw Bingley back against the main door and knocked McCormick over into the closet she had been searching. Bingley slid down along the doorframe and slumped to the floor in an unconscious heap.

Williams was still under the bed, his back turned to the door. He jumped at the explosion, hitting his head on the metal bed frame.

"Argh, fuck!" Stars danced in front of his eyes, and he panted with pain. When the pain subsided, he moved his hand behind his head. His fingers met a warm trickle of blood.

"Fuck!" He edged out from under the bed and pushed himself up to a sitting position. Each move made his head throb even more. The room flickered in front of his eyes. He squeezed them shut. However, the flickering still remained when he opened them again. There were crackles, as if someone had lit a fire in the fireplace, and the next moment the smell of smoke assaulted his nostrils.

His eyes became wide. The lounge was aflame! He stared at the fire that licked at the only door out of the bedroom. .

McCormick recovered first. She rushed towards the door of the lounge and cast a Flame Freezing Spell on the furniture and the other areas of the fire.

In the bedroom, Williams fumbled with his wand for a moment as he switched hands holding the wound on the back of his head. His weak Flame Freezing Spell joined McCormick's a good while later.

By the time Bingley regained consciousness and pulled himself up, McCormick had put out the fire, and Williams had made his way out of the bedroom.

The three Aurors looked at each other.

"Where's Knight?" Bingley asked.

As one, the three Authors turned towards the kitchen and stopped in their tracks on the threshold.

There was a hole in the floor. The remaining floor was littered with glass shards and scorched debris from the shattered kitchen cabinets. Knight had been thrown back by the force of the explosion and lay flat on the back near the opposite wall, his legs bent in an awkward angle. His torso was a scorched, bloody mess.

Bingley rushed over to him, although it was clear that Knight was already beyond help. He performed a quick Diagnostic Spell on him, as standard Auror protocol dictated. It came up with the result he had feared, and he shook his head. "He's probably been killed by the initial explosion and the ensuing fire did the rest." He got up to his feet and sighed. "I'll send a message to Robards. Then we'll need to notify Knight's family. Once that is done, I expect we will have a manhunt for Chang, assuming she set this up as a booby trap to catch Malfoy."

"Should have been Malfoy and not Knight," muttered Williams as McCormick was healing the wound on his head.

"While I might agree with the sentiment," said Bingley, "don't ever let me hear you say something like that again. It's not our job to cast judgement. But we do have another crime to charge Chang with so we better stick to doing our job, catching criminals such as her."

* * *

21.4

* * *

St. Mungo's emergency area turned into a bustling beehive of activity, with half a dozen patients arriving at once. Harry Potter had accompanied Daphne to the magical hospital, determined not to leave her side before he knew she was going to be fine. As he'd expected, his presence alone started weird glances and hushed talk, no matter how busy the healers and nurses were right now. His secrecy was not important to him anymore, all that mattered was that Daphne was okay, and then he and Croaker would be starting their hunt for the individuals who were still missing and were responsible for all of this.

"Don't worry, Mr Potter, your friend will make a full recovery," one of the medi-witches quickly assured him as soon as Daphne had been tended to and been wheeled to a private room to recover. Then the medi-witch clasped a hand to her mouth as it sunk in who she was speaking with. Her eyes became huge over he fingers.

"Potter? You're Harry Potter! But everyone said you had run away!" .

Harry caught himself wanting to roll his eyes in response. "I defeated the Dark Lord already. Why would I run from a group of terrorists? No, I was away for some training, and we're cleaning up the mess that has been left to run rampant even after the Death Eaters were dealt with," he said, forcing himself to show a polite expression. "Now, what can you tell me about my other friends that were brought in?"

Harry then received an update on Hannah and Neville, and learned that their injuries were also relatively minor in the view of the staff at the hospital.

The Carrow twins had been unharmed, and had been brought to the hospital as well. The healers easily assessed that they were well, even if a bit undernourished due to their time in captivity. The senior healer on duty did recommend that the two witches stay overnight for further evaluation before they would be allowed to be discharged.

With a relieved sigh that everyone seemed to be all right and well cared for, Harry sat down next to Daphne's bed and took her hand. The healers had spelled a couple of Pain Relieving Draughts and a heavy Sleeping Draught into her system, and she was still as out of it as she'd been the moment she'd fainted in his arms and scared the wits out of him. Despite the healers having assured him she was in a healing sleep, he failed to see the difference, and he let out a deep sigh.

Croaker came up from behind Harry and coughed slightly to get the young wizard's attention. "Perhaps you can spend time making eyes at your young witch another time. We need to return to check on Granger as well as continue the search for Barnes and for Chang."

Harry nodded, gave a quick kiss to Daphne's cheek and got up. She didn't react, and he sighed again. He had to trust the healers. In the meantime, there was work to be done.

Before Harry and Croaker apparated to the McMillan home, Croaker had called a couple more of his Unspeakables and gave them instructions to begin the search for Barnes and to look for possible methods of tracking him.

Just before they left St. Mungo's, Bingley and a female Auror apparated in, a younger male Auror between them, whose blood stained robes indicated he'd been hurt on duty, even though someone had done a good job of healing him in the field. A healer approached them, and Bingley left his subordinate to his care, while he and the female Auror filled in Harry and Croaker on what had happened at Draco Malfoy's apartment.

* * *

21.5

* * *

Barnes apparated to the deserted backyard of a public garage in Manchester. He bent over, gripping his thighs with his hands, and took a long, laboured breath. Damned, he was knackered. A series of random Apparitions all across the country had taxed his magic as much as he could dare. At least he'd now reached his final destination.

The government, Merlin bless those fools, gave him several false identities when he worked for MI-13. While they would probably have put out a warning to apprehend anyone using his fake identities if he tried to use them for Muggle travel, he was able to use magic to alter them enough to create new false identities. He had a car hidden in the public garage behind him. He'd drive to Leeds, and from the airport there he'd take a flight out of England, to Amsterdam or Paris, maybe. It would be easy to disappear among the masses on two of the biggest international airports in Europe and cover his tracks. From there, he could go anywhere, think about his next steps, and bide his time until he was ready to strike again.

A smile played around his lips as he walked towards the car to set his next plans into motion.

* * *

21.6

* * *

 _See the little girl with the eyes rolled back in her head_

 _She got a complication but she knows it'll work out fine_

 _Naked as a baby, talking 'bout the feeling she gets_

 _In another time, in another place_

 _I got both doors open_

 _I got both doors open_

 _I got the back door open_

 _I got the screen door open._

 _Oh i don't understand_

 _Oh it's not just a sound_

 _Oh i don't understand_

 _It doesn't matter at all_

Harry Potter and Croaker arrived at the McMillan estate, with two Aurors and two Unspeakables right behind them. They cut across the lawn and headed towards where Hermione still kept guard over the prisoner, Scott Hubbard, the former Australian Auror.

Hermione's attention was focused on Hubbard, who was lying on the ground. Upon hearing people walking up from behind her, she spun around to face whomever was coming up from behind her, her wand at the ready, and with visible signs of strain in her pale face.

Croaker hesitated. Something seemed off here; Granger's eyes were glazed over, her pupils as small as pinheads, as if she was under the influence of addictive potions.

Hermione's wand was pointed at Hubbard right before she turned around. At the sight of Harry, she lifted her right arm, changing the aim of her wand from Hubbard towards Harry. Her arm shook as she did so, as if she was fighting the movement.

She looked at Harry, tears in her eyes.

Hermione closed her eyes, the wand still pointed at Harry. In a slow, strained voice she said, "Avada…"

Croaker gasped; that's what it was, the witch was under the Imperius! He pushed Harry to one side, out of danger. He could deal with Granger later.

A red beam of light passed him and struck Granger in her chest before she finished the Killing Curse. Her eyes widened, she let out a strange, meowing sound, and her wand clattered to the ground. Granger swayed on her feet for a second, blood bursting forth from a long gash across her chest and colouring her shirt a deep red. The next moment she fell to the ground.

"Hermione!"

Harry ran over to her side, kneeling down beside her, and took her now empty hand in his.

Croaker whirled around and glared at the Auror who had his wand still pointed at the fallen witch.

"What the hell did you use an overpowered cutting hex for?" demanded Croaker.

The Auror in question reeled back, but recovered soon. "She was about to kill Potter," he defended himself.

"Then why did you aim it at her chest, as opposed to at her arm or hand?" Croaker shook his head as he questioned the man. "Or better yet, why not simply disarm her? It was obvious she was under the Imperius Curse, for Merlin's sake."

A heart wrenching sob made him turn around again.

Harry knelt over the lifeless form of his best friend, tears streaming from his eyes.

* * *

 **AN:** **Yes it has been a long time. Life happens, illnesses happen, work happens. The most dominant defensive performance in the history of the Super Bowl happens…**

 **But on a serious side - many thanks to Dorothea Greengrass for her hard work of editing this chapter, and her many contributions to the flow of the story - even if she is not happy with me with the ending of this chapter. She already expressed her displeasure with me over this. And no, the story is not done, yet.**

 **But as I said previously, this entire story grew from the images I had of the first scene that came to my mind - Harry and Daphne fighting together - which occurred in a previous chapter.**

* * *

 _ **Lyrics: © 1981, "Big Blue Plymouth (Eyes Wide Open)", David Byrne, The Catherine Wheel, written by: David Byrne**_


	22. Chapter 22 - Give Me Back My Name

LDW-22

 **Give Me Back My Name**

 _There's a word for it_

 _And words don't mean a thing_

 _There's name for it_

 _And names make all the difference in the world_

 _Some things can never be spoken_

 _Some things cannot be pronounced_

 _That word does not exist in any language_

 _It will never be uttered by a human mouth_

 _Let X make a statement_

 _Let breath pass through those cracked lips_

 _That man was my hero_

 _And now that word has been taken from us_

 _Some things can never be spoken_

 _Some things cannot be pronounced_

 _That word does not exist in any language_

 _It will never be uttered by a human mouth_

 _Give me back my name_

 _Give me back my name_

 _Something has been changed in my life_

 _Something has been changed in my life_

 _Something must be returned to us_

 _Something must me returned to us_

* * *

LDW - 22.1

* * *

Harry was kneeling over the lifeless form of Hermione Granger, his best friend since he rescued her from a troll when they were first years, tears streaming down his face. The raw pain of grief almost killed him. Why Hermione, why the last close friend he had left? He did not hear the popping sound of two people arriving by apparition.

"What's going on?" exclaimed Staci as she came upon the scene.

Croaker had finished chastising his Auror and now stood next to Harry, casting diagnostic charms on Hermione's body. He looked up at Staci. "Piercing Hex, right through her heart. It just happened." He sent a piercing glare toward the Auror, who gulped and tried to make himself as inconspicuous as possible.

Staci shook her head. "Haven't you done anything for her?"

Harry looked up, his face glistening with tears. "What can be done? She's dead!"

Fleur had arrived with Staci. She looked at the scene in front of her with wide, horrified eyes, and gasped. "Oh no!" Her hand flew in front of her mouth, and tears pooled in her eyes and spilled down her cheeks the next second.

"Are you a wizard or what?" Staci said, with more than a trace of annoyance in her voice. "For Merlin's sake, back away, Potter." She flicked her wand into her hand.

Harry's head jerked around to her, a hot reply already on the tip of his tongue. One look at her hard face made him reconsider, and he stepped aside.

Staci's wand was a blur, and she snapped out a series of spells so fast he couldn't distinguish the words. The wound in Hermione's chest closed. The next second Staci hit her with an electrical, shock-like spell. Hermione's body convulsed briefly.

Croaker glanced at Hermione and back at Staci. He looked as if was about to question what she was doing when an expression of understanding crossed his face. "This might just work," he muttered and cast a diagnostic charm. The result made his eyebrows rise up, and his face brightened. "Try it again," he called out.

Staci cast the electrical spell once again.

Croaker knelt down next to Hermione and grabbed her wrist. "She has a slight pulse, but it is very weak."

"She must have lost a lot of blood," said Staci.

"We don't have time to get a blood replenishing potion," said Croaker, shaking his head.

"Then we'll have to give her some blood, like non-magical healers will do." Staci turned to Fleur, "You're a Veela, you have magical blood. We won't need to worry about blood type. Your blood adjusts when you change from human to your avian, or your Veela form, your magical blood will overcome any possible problems with non cross matched blood."

Fleur looked back and forth between Hermione and Staci. "Of course I will help Hermione! What do you need me to do?"

Staci gave her a thin smile. "Just hold your arm out. Oh, this will hurt, for a minute."

Fleur already held out her arm, a grim smile on her lips. "Go ahead; believe me, I've been through worse."

Staci flicked her wand, a slash appeared along Fleur's arm, thick drops of blood gushed out and ran down her arm.

"We need something to collect it in a sterile fashion," Staci said and looked around as she was trying to figure out where to get just that. .

Croaker conjured a bowl and held it in the air below Fleur's bleeding arm with a Suspension Charm.

"That should work, good thinking," Staci said with a nod.

The container soon filled up, Staci's glance flickered between the bowl and Hermione, then she closed her eyes tightly, took a deep breath and cast an intricate spell, using words neither Harry or the others had ever heard before.

The blood vanished from the magical bowl.

Fleur gasped. "Where did you send it?"

"Hopefully into her aorta, or else we'll have quite the mess," Staci said and knelt down to check on Hermione. "Her pulse is a little stronger, but we need more." She turned back to Fleur. "Can we get another container full?"

"How much will you need?" asked Fleur, the worry in her voice clearly being heard by everyone.

"Maybe one or two more," answered Staci as she watched the blood fill the container again.

"But what about Fleur? We can't hurt her!" Harry said, his voice still showing his concern for his friend.

"She should be fine," answered Staci. "She may need to take it easy for a couple of days, increase fluids, or even take a blood replenisher herself later today, but she should be okay." She transferred another bowl of blood into Hermione. A couple of minutes later a third bowl followed.

Fleur had become very pale and swayed, and the Auror rushed towards her and steadied her with his arm as she sat down on the ground.

Hermione took a deep breath, almost a gasp, and her eyes fluttered open.

Harry's heart made a leap of joy. His best friend was alive! Yet, how pale she was. Harry shuddered.

Hermione tried to raise a hand, but her arm was too weak to move it very far.

Harry caressed her cheek. "Don't move, Hermione, you're going to be fine, I mean I hope you're going to be fine."

"What happened?" Hermione's voice was weak, her eyes moved about the many faces around her and finally came to rest on Harry. She stared at him for a long time, until her chin quivered. "Oh Harry, I am so sorry." She was so weak, her tremulous voice was a soft whisper. "I tried to... I tried to hurt you."

"You didn't Hermione, I'm fine." He smiled, her hand clasped in his.

When Hermione spoke again, her voice was still so weak he had to lower his head to understand her, and she interrupted herself for breath after every few words. "I was weak... weak in the mind, I couldn't throw off the Imperius."

"That's not the point," Harry said, trying to calm her. He was no healer, but common sense told him it couldn't be good for her to get agitated right after being resuscitated. "You're going to be fine now. We brought you back."

"She won't be fine if she stays here," said Croaker. He ordered the Auror to bring some healers from St. Mungo's so that they could safely transfer Hermione to the hospital. He turned to Hermione and said, "You, young lady, are a very lucky witch. I suspect with all that has happened in the past few minutes you are no longer under the effects of the Imperius Curse."

Hermione blinked, then her eyes went wide. She turned to Harry with tears in her eyes.

Harry brushed the tears away. "Don't worry about it, Hermione. It wasn't your fault. It was Chang, wasn't it?"

Hermione nodded, still too weak to say much of anything else.

A moment later several healers arrived with the Auror. They quickly got to work evaluating Hermione, and poured several potions down her throat. After minutes of hectic work one of the healers looked up to Croaker. "I believe she will be fine. She needs more Blood Replenishing Potions, and some Strengthening Potions."

One of the healers had brought Blood Replenishing Potions and gave one to Fleur to drink. Then the healers used a special Portkey to bring Hermione and their team back to St. Mungo's.

Harry watched them leave, a deep frown of concern for his friend clearly etched on his face.

Fleur slowly rose to a standing position, feeling a little stronger already with the healing effects of the potion she had received. She carefully stepped up to Harry and embraced him softly. "We'll take you back to St. Mungo's. There you can check on Hermione, and your girlfriend, and the others."

Harry nodded his thanks to Fleur, and Staci took the young man by the arm. "I will take you with me to the hospital, Harry. You're still in too much shock to safely apparate." She turned to Fleur. "Do you have the strength to apparate, or do I need to come back and get you?"

"I think I will be fine," said Fleur with a smile. "I'm just glad that I could help."

* * *

LDW - 22.2

* * *

Upon arriving at the hospital, the group asked after Hermione, but were informed that she was being tended to by a group of healers and could not be disturbed at this time. Harry's shoulders sank as he let out a heavy sigh.

"Buck up, Harry, she's going to be fine now, she's getting the care she needs," admonished Staci. "Let's take you to see Daphne."

A minute later they had entered the room where Daphne and Hannah were recovering. Daphne immediately took note of the pain and worry on Harry's face.

"What happened?" she asked.

Harry stuttered as he in vain tried to explain what happened to Hermione. Fleur put a gentle hand on his shoulder and shook her head, silently letting him know that she would answer for him. "Chang, that bitch who used to date the Hogwarts champion, Cedric, she happened. She made her way to where Hermione was watching over that dog, Hubbard. She used the Imperius Curse on Hermione."

Daphne's jaw dropped and her eyes went wide. Hannah, overhearing this, gasped and put her hand over her mouth.

"Don't worry, Harry's fine," Staci said. "Chang killed Hubbard, then used the Imperius Curse on Hermione, trying to set her up to kill Harry. But she was stopped from attacking him."

Tears welled up in Harry's eyes.

"Who stopped her?" demanded Daphne.

"One of the damned Aurors did," Fleur said with gritted teeth. "He almost killed her with a Piercing Hex to her heart. If Staci hadn't turned up just in time…" Her voice gave out.

Harry swallowed hard and found his voice. "It's okay, or it's going to be okay. Staci cast some quick spells that healed Hermione's heart. Then she magically gave some of Fleur's blood to Hermione to help save her."

Daphne reached out, grasped Harry's hand and cupped his cheek with her other hand. "I know you care about her, everyone knows you do. But I can tell you're beating yourself up over this." She gently wiped his tears away and pushed his hair out of his face.

Harry nodded silently.

"You said Hermione is going to recover," Daphne said. "Well, Hannah, Neville and I are about ready to be discharged. So, let's get started on finding that bitch and getting justice for everything she has done."

Harry looked up at her and saw the determination on her face. Daphne pulled Harry in and gave him a hug. He hid his face on her shoulder and let the comfort she gave him soothe away the last vestiges of the pain he'd been through.

Hannah smiled at the sight before her. "I can't figure Cho Chang out," she said. "Every year, no matter what happens, Harry comes out on top. Whether it be against a Dark Lord, Dementors, the Tri-Wizard Tournament, or even a Troll or a Basilisk, you manage to come out on top. What foolish idea got into her head that made her think she could actually take you on and be the one to come out ahead?"

"Just foolishness to think that she might be the one to finally break Harry's winning streak," added Neville, who had just walked in with one of the healers.

The healer coughed slightly to get everyone's attention. "Now, Miss Abbott and Miss Greengrass, it seems that you are both being cleared to leave, as well as Mister Longbottom here."

Harry gave Daphne a quick hug back. "Any news about Hermione Granger?" asked Harry as he turned back to the healer.

"All I can tell you is that she is stable," said the healer.

"Can we go see her?" asked Hannah, hopefully.

The healer paused before responding, "She is still quite weak. She is actively being treated. It would be best to wait."

Harry's shoulders noticeably sagged in response to this news. Daphne squeezed his hand to get his attention. "Why don't we leave, and head on back home? We can always come back when we can visit her when she is more stable."

* * *

LDW - 22.3

* * *

Croaker left St. Mungo's once he was certain that all parties were stable and on the mend. He sent a Patronus to the head of the DMLE, asking him to join them, and made his way to the office of the Minister for Magic.

Once Robards had arrived and sat down next to Croaker, Shacklebolt asked for an update.

"The mission, overall, was relatively successful," said the Unspeakable.

"Relatively? What in Merlin's name does that mean?" asked Robards.

Croaker gave a quick side glance to the scowling director of the DMLE before speaking directly to the minister. "Potter found the whereabouts of the terrorists, the former MI-13 group. Once we arrived everything went smoothly - for the most part. Nearly their entire team was neutralised, with most of them being killed. We even recovered the Carrow girls who had been held captive for some time. However, there were two major problems."

Robards snorted, "What? Did you get a bloody nose? Or did Potter show everyone up?"

Croaker closed his eyes for a moment, and then he spoke directly to the minister. "Two of the terrorists managed to escape. Barnes and Chang."

Shacklebolt cast a look at Robards to silence him and then turned back to Croaker. "That's your two problems? Those two escaped?"

"No, sir, that's just the first problem," said Croaker. "The second was Chang herself. While she did escape, she made her way to the MacMillan estate and there she killed Hubbard and placed the Imperius Curse on Granger. Chang had ordered her to kill Potter."

Robards' eyes went wide but he remained silent. The minister gasped. "Is Potter all right?"

"Potter's fine, sir," said the Unspeakable. "However," he added with a glare at Robards, "one of the Aurors overreacted and killed Hermione Granger."

There was a palpable tension and silence in the room for a few moments until Croaker continued his report. "Well, rather, the Auror would have killed Granger, hadn't that American Auror come to the crime scene just in time."

Shacklebolt's jaw dropped and he stared at the head of the Unspeakables.

"What in Merlin's name does that mean? First you said she was killed!" Robards spat, his hands gripping the armrests of his chair.

Croaker waved them silent with his hand.

"The American special operative who trained Potter earlier this year showed up and acted more quickly than anyone else, even quicker than myself," explained Croaker. "The Auror basically pierced a hole in the young witch's heart. The American, hell, she thought of something even I didn't consider. Needless to say, she saved Granger, who is getting further treatment at St. Mungo's as we speak." He turned to face Robards directly. "Demetrios is the reason why Potter didn't take out your Auror."

"That's a relief," stated the minister. "What else do you have to report?"

"We need to meet with the Muggle government and start a combined effort to capture those two," said Croaker. "Essentially, as of right now, the killing that Barnes and Middleton started has ended. Their teams are eliminated. Even Middleton is no longer a threat. But while those two cannot continue their previous conceived plans for taking out wizards and witches, they do need to be brought to justice, or hunted down and eliminated permanently."

* * *

LDW - 22.4

* * *

Two hours later found Shacklebolt, Croaker and Robards sitting in a conference room with M, Tony Blair, and several of his cabinet members.

M sat still, her lips pursed tightly, no emotion on her face. The Prime Minister skimmed through the documents which had been prepared and reviewed with them all by the magical head of law enforcement. He rubbed his chin, sighed, and looked up at his magical counterpart.

"So, the terrorist group, the former MI-13 group, they have been eliminated," he said glancing from Shacklebolt to Croaker to Robards. "Except for this leader, this wizard, Barnes."

The three men all nodded solemnly in response.

Blair turned to M and raised an eyebrow. "Your people trained this Barnes. Just how dangerous is he? Is he still as dangerous on his own and the run as he was when he had all of his team?"

M tilted her head back slightly and spoke slowly and deliberately. "Barnes is a skilled magic user, and a highly trained special agent. Almost as skilled as most double-oh agents. He will be difficult to track, difficult to bring down, and even more difficult to bring in alive."

"I don't know what we would necessarily gain from bringing him in alive, at this point," commented the First Secretary of State, Mr. Prescott. "It's not like we can or will publicise anything about what happened or what he did."

Tony Blair nodded in response to the secretary's comments, his face solemn. "Still, I do not take lightly the role of condemning any man to death, not even a terrorist. But we have to do what is necessary to end this, completely." He sighed again, and his face hardened. "All right, do anything to bring him down, dead or alive."

* * *

LDW - 22.5

* * *

The medi-witch would not allow the group to visit Hermione. 'Ms Granger is on Sleeping Potions, she still needs to recover,' she said with a no-nonsense-expression.

'I'll wait here and check on her as soon as she wakes up,' Fleur offered. Staci planned to return to where ever it was that she was staying, but promised to check up on Hermione and also on Harry later. Hannah and Neville were planning on heading to a small property the Longbottom family owned outside of London. Once they were alone, Harry and Daphne decided to head back to Privet Drive.

They didn't Apparate directly to the garage, as usual, but to an alley behind a store several blocks away. It gave them the opportunity to enjoy themselves on a leisurely walk back to the house. A pleasant evening stroll on this day in late August would be a welcome change of pace, compared to everything else they had been doing over the past several months, and especially the events of the day. The two made their way down the street and passed the park where Harry had often been attacked by Dudley and his gang, and even Dementors one summer.

Harry reached out and grasped Daphne by the elbow, and indicated with a nod of his head towards a man walking down the road that was perpendicular to them.

"What of it?" Daphne asked quietly.

Harry still stared at the man with narrowed eyes. "His movements, they remind me of someone I had an encounter with previously this summer," he whispered.

"One of Barnes' men?"

"No, MI-6, actually," said Harry, still not taking his eye off of the man. "Known as 008, if I recall correctly."

"Why would he be here?" Daphne asked in a puzzled tone.

"Probably looking for me."

Daphne narrowed her eyes at Harry, her expression silently telling him she expected more of an explanation.

"I bested him in a little duel, to prove I had the skills to do what we have been doing, since just before I rescued you."

Daphne leaned back and crossed her arms across her chest. "Oh, do tell me more."

"Well, you see, the Muggle secret service wanted him to help me deal with the terrorists. I told them I didn't need him and that he would be mostly useless. He didn't like that. So I proved that he would be unhelpful in an encounter with witches and wizards, even if he did have a gun."

"What? You embarrassed him in a fight?" asked Daphne, surprise giving way to a tone that indicated that she was impressed.

"Well, that, and I called him 'penguin.'" Noting the curious look on her face, Harry added, "Because he was dressed in a tux in the middle of the day. Looked kind of foolish, if you ask me."

Daphne's face went pale suddenly.

Harry had turned to face her when he gave his explanation. Now he tilted his head as he looked at her. She remained silent.

"Tell me, is that the footsteps of the 'penguin' coming up behind me that I hear?" he asked quietly.

Daphne nodded slightly. Then added, "He seems to have something hidden in his right hand."

"Foolish, foolish man," said Harry. "If necessary, stun any Muggle witnesses, in case they need to be obliviated. This, however, should be over quickly."

Daphne nodded, still watching the approaching man over Harry's shoulder. The man raised his right arm as he accelerated his steps towards the couple in front of him.

A grin spread across his face. This was going to be easy. The cocky upstart with the impossible hair had his back to him and was distracted by the blonde. The woman looked over the man's shoulder, directly at him, although she seemed not to be aware of the danger he posed. It didn't matter, he was ready though. If the man moved his right arm to cast a magic spell, he would simply shoot him. He raised his hand with his gun and never noticed the man's left hand twitch slightly.

A red light shot out in a wave like pattern, hit him square in his chest, and he knew no more.

A hard thud behind him as the man collapsed onto the sidewalk told Harry his spell had met its goal.

Daphne glanced around. "I don't think anyone saw what's happened, at least nobody is looking our way."

"Good!"

Harry turned around. The hand gun had dropped from the penguin's hand as he fell to the ground. He kicked it away, cast a silent spell, and the man's eyes opened up.

His face turned an interesting shade of red when he discovered that he couldn't move his arms or legs. The only body part he could move was his head, and he blinked furiously a couple of times.

"What the hell did you do to me?" 008 spat.

"Stopped you from doing anything to me," said Harry quietly. A small, smug smile played around his lips.

"Why the hell can't I move my arms or legs?" Now 008 was nearly shouting.

"Quiet down or I will silence you," Harry said. He knelt next to the man. "To passers by I'm just helping someone who tripped and fell. So, until you answer my questions, I will not revive your arms or legs."

008 shut his eyes tightly for a moment, then gave Harry a menacing look.

"I take it you've been tracking me down, and somehow found my home here and my home in London," said Harry. "Yes, I know you were there, and here," he added.

"Fine, yes, I tracked you down," 008 grunted in frustration.

"So, penguin, do you want me to call M and tell her what you have been up to?" Harry let his question hang in the air for a moment, then added, "Or do you want to do me a little bit of a favour?"

"What kind of favour?" asked 008.

"If you behave, we'll have a little walk to my home, and then we can talk more," Harry said, stood up and cast a slight yellow spell at the man.

008 let out a sigh of relief when he discovered he could move his arms and legs again.

"You may be a little weak, perhaps we should help you up and then guide you to my home," said Harry, grasped the man's hand and pulled him up to stand.

008 swayed on his feet. Harry took him by his arm, turned him around and led him towards Privet Drive, with Daphne following right behind. Her eyes fell on the small handgun Harry had kicked to the side. It wouldn't do to leave it here, where anyone could find it, and she bent down, grabbed the small hand gun and slipped it into a pocket in her light coat.

When they arrived at Privet Drive, Harry directed 008 to a chair in the main room.

"You said something about a favour," said 008. "What exactly would that be?"

Harry smiled slightly. "You worked with Barnes at some point, you all have training on how to stay hidden."

008 nodded yes.

"Where would he have gone? How do I find him? I need to track him down," said Harry.

008 raised an eyebrow. "He wouldn't be stupid enough to go to his usual places." He took a deep breath, then added, "Probably leave the country, as soon as possible."

"Where would he go?"

008 rubbed the side of his face, and frowned in thought. "Initially, he would head to Europe, then probably head west, he'd probably also want to hide from the yanks, so maybe South America."

"That's where war criminals used to go," observed Harry. "So, just let me know what I need to know to be able to find him."

"There are certain people that you should be able to find, in Argentina, or in Brazil, who know things and people and places. They are not particularly nice people. They also don't like to give out information. But if you had something to offer them, some reason why it might be beneficial for them to share certain information with you, then these people might be able to help you locate this Barnes," said 008.

"I've dealt with some really nasty people before," said Harry.

008 laughed at him. "Keep telling yourself that and you might actually survive your trip down there."

Daphne shook her head and she laughed at the man. "You really think some Muggle thugs will intimidate Harry?"

"I didn't say they were all non magical, and I wouldn't presuppose that anyone could go and just simply walk in and get information from these people. But go ahead, underestimate them if you wish," scoffed 008.

"I don't plan on underestimating anyone," said Harry. "But anything you have that can be helpful in getting me and my friends heading in the right direction will be greatly appreciated."

* * *

 _ **Lyrics: © 1985, "Give Me Back My Name", Talking Heads, Little Creatures, written by: David Byrne**_

* * *

 **AN: Again, special thanks to Dorothea Greengrass for editing this chapter. If you haven't read her stories, you should. They are wonderful stories. And she doesn't kill off Hermione in them…**


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